Leave an Impression
by DeenaTweety
Summary: Jackie Carson, a mild-mannered hairstylist, finds herself in a dangerous world after a weekend camping trip goes awry. Bradas Sarayn, a dark elf on the run, finds himself stuck in Skyrim and facing the possibility that he might be more than an ordinary man. Time travel, realm-jumping and more! (This will be a long story with developed characters. Give it a read!)
1. A girl, a Mer, and a Dragon

**A/N:**

Haha okay I'm the worst. Starting another fic? Ridiculous. I couldn't resist!

Soooo I'm sorta new to this fandom so I hope you all like this! It's definitely not an original idea, but what can I say. I'm a sucker for these types of fics and there don't seem to be too many modern-day-people-falling-into-Skyrim type stories so I thought… what the heck, I'll write my own! Just for fun and to see if I can! :)

Please enjoy and read the notes at the end!

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><p>Jackie had never been too fond of camping, but the peer pressure from her outdoors-obsessed roommates had finally gotten to her. Reluctantly, she had bought a sleeping bag and trekked out into the wilderness (aka the forest just outside of their city) with the female equivalents of Bear Grylls and Les Stroud.<p>

She had to admit, though, that s'mores almost made the experience worth it, and even the food cooked over the campfire had a special quality, like something magical happened to make it tastier than usual.

She could almost get into camping… if it weren't for the fact that one generally had to pee outside.

Jackie had tried to avoid it, but the call of nature was stronger than her desire for a clean bathroom. It was the middle of the night when she finally peeked her head outside of the tent and wandered outside in search of a little privacy. She guessed she could count herself lucky since it was basically the middle of nowhere.

After a few uncomfortable but relieving seconds she finished and began the journey back to the tent. She'd definitely need to snuggle up with her roommates for warmth after this. But as she ambled back to their campsite, tired and half-blind with sleep, she began to worry that she was lost.

"Noooo…" she groaned, shutting her eyes and leaning up against a nearby tree. She was way too sleepy to deal with being lost. She heaved a sigh and hugged her thick flannel jacket a little tighter around her shoulders, tucking the roll of toilet paper she'd taken with her into an oversized pocket.

"Jenny," she called, knowing that the campsite couldn't be too far away. "Emma? I'm lost," she whined loudly, hoping to wake her friends. "I know you're asleep but you guys should come find me before a bear does!" Actually, was that something she needed to worry about? Were there bears in these parts? "Ugh," she sighed, rubbing her eyes. _This_ was why she hated camping.

A rustling noise came from her left and she turned, squinting her eyes into the dark of the forest. "Jen?"

More rustling. Those footsteps were too heavy to belong to either of her petite roommates.

"Who's there?" an accented male voice called.

She froze. This didn't seem right. Had there been a campsite nearby that she hadn't noticed? Were there more campers that they hadn't been aware of? She thought that they were way out in the middle of nowhere, but could they have been trespassing on private property?

"Show yourself," the voice demanded. A terrifying thought struck her; they could be on private land and this guy could have a gun.

She really didn't want to spook him, in that case. She held up her gloved hands and stepped out from behind her tree. "Look, I'm right here, okay?" she said slowly, blinking as a bright light came into her vision. Was he… carrying a torch? What kind of freaks owned this place? "Uh, we're just camping," she went on, eyes adjusting slowly to the light change. "We had no idea this was private property, I can go get my friends and we'll get out of here quick… oh my God, is that a sword?"

The man was, indeed, carrying an actual sword and wearing some kind of armor get-up, and the moment she realized that was the moment she woke up completely. Clearly she had stumbled upon some creepy cult's compound, and they weren't friendly. She didn't wait for him to respond. Listening to her instincts, she turned and scrambled away as quickly as she could.

"Stay put," he ordered. Jackie didn't listen. She did not have any plans to get killed/raped/eaten by some crazies living out the woods, not today, thank you very much!

She could hear the sounds of yelling and more footsteps following behind her as she ran, but she still held onto the hope that adrenaline could get her somewhere that at least had cellphone service so she could call for help.

"After her!" a voice called, and panic swelled inside her chest. She continued running until her lungs burned and her legs felt weak—which, admittedly, didn't take too long—and finally, when she felt that she had a little time, she stumbled against a tree, panting.

She could still hear people searching for her, and they were definitely going to find her at this rate. Her only hope was the call 911. With shaky fingers she pulled her phone out of her jacket and held down the "on" button.

"Hurry, hurry," she whimpered, cursing the time it took to start up. She'd had it turned off to save battery life, but now she was dearly regretting it.

When it finally, finally came on, she had absolutely no service bars. But she'd heard once that you could still call 911 with no service… something about the phone going into emergency mode? Either way, this was her only shot. She swiped the phone icon and dialed, trying to catch her breath so that she could be coherent in case an operator did pick up.

Fear stabbed through her as an automated voice answered, "I'm sorry, the person you are dialing is out of reach—"

"Who was that?"

"Over here!"

They were headed towards her now. Her hands were trembling so much that she dropped her phone in the leaves, but that was the least of her worries now. She crouched down to try and sneak away.

And then she bumped into a tree. Only it wasn't a tree. It was another guy in armor.

The last thing she saw before her vision went black was the hilt of a sword swinging over her head.

* * *

><p>He felt tired and dazed as he woke up, blinking the sleep out of his eyes to look around. With a frown, he realized that his hands were bound.<p>

"Hey, you. You're finally awake," said a blond Nord sitting right across from him. It appeared that he was a prisoner too, along with a few others. "You tried to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us. And those thieves over there."

Bradas peered over at the thieves. One was a brown-haired Nord and the other was a woman who looked like she'd seen better days. It seemed they had tossed her around a little before putting her in binds; her face was bruised and swelling and she was covered in dirt. Her brown eyes were locked onto his, a furrow in her brow. He raised an eyebrow and she looked away quickly, embarrassed at being caught staring.

Hmph, she acted like she'd never seen a Dunmer before. He frowned and looked down at his binds. It was more likely that she hated his race like many others of her kind. He supposed it didn't matter now—they were all prisoners.

"Damn you Stormcloaks," the black-haired thief was saying. ""The empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The thief looked directly at him, now. "You there! You and me—we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds, now, thief," the blond Nord interjected. At that, the young woman sniffed silently and lifted her bound hands to wipe gingerly at her nose.

"Shut up back there!" the previously silent carriage driver groused.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" the thief asked, ignoring the driver and looking at the man across from him. Even Bradas was curious; the Nord man beside him had his hands bound and his mouth muffled by a tightly tied cloth.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

Bradas was silent. If this was Ulfric Stormcloak captured alongside them…

"Ulfric, the jarl of Windhelm? … You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you…! Oh Gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where were going, but Sovngarde awaits," the Stormcloak said, resigned.

"No, this can't be happening! This isn't happening!" The thief finally seemed to connect the dots. He felt his heart race. They were all going to be executed!

"Hey," the other Nord said, "What village are you from, horse thief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

A short silence settled over their little wagon. The young woman hunched over and covered her eyes, and he knew she was weeping as quietly as she could.

"Rorikstead. I'm… I'm from Rorikstead."

"General Tallius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" a voice called out, interrupting the solemn moment.

"Good, let's get this over with!"

The horse thief began praying to the divines and Bradas tuned them all out as his own panic began to set in. Were they all really going to die? Thieves and border-crossers beside jarls and rebels?

* * *

><p>Jackie couldn't believe what was happening. She had been convinced at first that she was the victim of some sick prank, that maybe some LARPers had taken it way too far. She'd been pretty sure that was what was happening when she saw them haul up a <em>blue-gray colored <em>elf guy onto the wagon. But the bumpy carriage ride and the bruise she felt forming on her face drove the point home: it didn't matter if it was demented cosplayers or not. There was a good chance these people were going to kill her.

"This is Helgen," the big blond guy said. "I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in… Funny, when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

And, from the way this guy was waxing poetic, they were going to kill everyone in this wagon, too.

"Who are they, Daddy? Where are they going?" a little boy asked.

"You need to go inside, little cub," his dad said.

"Why? I wanna watch the soldiers."

"Get inside the house, now," the dad said. Jackie felt sick. These people had done this before? There were _kids_ here? How did the government not know about this?

"Why are we stopping?" the obnoxious guy beside her asked.

"Why do you think? End of the line." Jackie sniffled and looked around the little… village, or wherever they were stopped in. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the Gods waiting for us."

She stood up and forced herself to move off of the wagon, her muscles stiff with fear. She ignored the horse thief's protests and just focused and getting out without falling down or bumping into anyone—which was a task in itself, because she felt so sick and dizzy from the bruising hit she'd been dealt earlier.

"Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time!" a bossy lady's voice called out.

"Empire loves their damn lists," the grumpy blond muttered.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm." one of the male guards said. She watched as the 'true high king of wherever' stepped forward.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric," the chatty guy said solemnly. She wondered if that was an actual chopping block she saw over yonder…

"Ralof of Riverwood," the guard read. The blond stepped forward silently, with what she would have identified as dignity if she herself hadn't been so terrified. They weren't _actually _going to execute them, were they? "Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No! I'm not a rebel!" The annoying brunette stepped forward, protesting. "You can't do this!" He hesitated for a second, and then broke out into a run.

"Halt!"

"You're not gonna kill me!"

"Archers!"

She didn't even see the arrow flying, just Lokir crumpling to the ground. She stared at him, wide-eyed. Was he dead? Oh God, he was dead…

"Anyone else feel like running?" the female guard asked aggressively.

Jackie felt her bottom lip start to tremble and she fought the tears that threatened to come. She'd been crying all morning and that hadn't helped her one bit.

"Wait. You there, step forward," another guard said to the elf on her right. He stepped forward slowly, a deep frown etched onto his face. "Who are you?"

He straightened up when he answered. "Bradas Sarayn," he replied.

"Another refugee? The Gods really have abandoned your people. Captain. What should we do? He's not on the list." For a second, Jackie wondered if they would be set free. They weren't on the list, so they didn't have to get killed, right?

"Forget the list. He goes to the block." _What a bitch!_

"By your orders, captain." The male guard looked back at Brad… Brady, was it? "I'm sorry. We'll make sure to return your remains to Morrowind. Follow the captain, prisoner." He did as he was told and the guard looked to her. "And your name?"

"J-Jackie Carson?" the answer came out more like a question through her jittering teeth. "I shouldn't be on there…"

"Follow them," he gestured toward the group of people gathering around the chopping block. She blinked. How could he brush her off so quickly after he'd been relatively nice to the elf guy? Instead of protesting, though, she allowed herself to be led to stand in the big group awaiting execution. She stood just behind the elf, scared of what was happening next. If she hadn't just seen someone get shot with an arrow for running away, she just might have tried it herself.

"Ulfric Stormcloak," a guy addressed the man with a bandana over his mouth, "some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne." Jackie wanted to scream. What the _hell_ was he talking about? "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace!"

Suddenly, a strange, echoing noise filled the air. Jackie looked up and around to identify it, but there were no clues.

"What was that?" someone asked.

"It's nothing. Carry on," another replied.

"Yes, General Tullius!" the female guard said. "Give them their last rites."

A woman who Jackie assumed was some kind of priestess began to speak. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you…"

"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with," one of her fellow prisoners stepped forward and shut that woman right up.

"… As you wish," she said, irritated.

The prisoner faced the chopping block and said, "Come on, I haven't got all morning!" He let himself be guided onto his knees and knelt over the block. "My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

A man standing above him raised an axe and…

Jackie dry-heaved.

This was real, this was really real and up close. Her blood roared through her ears and her vision began to darken around the sides. There was blood _everywhere_, and the man's head rolled into a little box.

"As fearless in death as he was in life," Ralof was saying, but she could barely hear him.

"Next, the new one in the rags!"

Everyone stopped for a moment to listen to the trilling sound that drifted through the air again, this time louder. Jackie couldn't bring herself to care about what it was.

"There it is again… did you hear that?"

"I said, _next prisoner_," the woman repeated. Jackie wished she would just shut up. How could she be so heartless and efficient?

"To the block prisoner," the other guard gestured toward the elf guy. "Nice and easy."

* * *

><p>Bradas stepped forward, back straight and eyes forward. He'd never been the honorable type, but he would at least try to be right before death. Not to mention the fact that running had already proven impossible.<p>

He caught a glimpse of the girl that had ridden with them—tears filled her wide eyes. He'd never thought that when he died there would be a girl crying for him. He would have laughed if the whole situation hadn't been so unfair.

The world tilted to the side and he watched the executioner ready his axe. He would have preferred to keep his eyes closed—to not see death coming toward him—but before he could he spotted something… strange behind the tower. He couldn't be sure if it was really what it looked like…

But then it landed on top of the tower and let out a deafening roar, knocking the executioner and everyone else to the ground. He sat there, frozen. Could this actually be happening? Was that an actual dragon?

He stood up clumsily, his vision blurry.

"Hey, you, get up! Come on, the Gods won't give us another chance!" A voice, one belonging to one of the other prisoners called out as if from a great distance. "This way!"

He followed the man who had been identified as Ralof, stumbling along the way.

"You, too, girl! Quickly!" he yelled at the young woman who had been crying only a moment ago. She was standing as if frozen, staring at the great beast that was laying waste to Helgen, her jaw dropped and eyes wide as dinner plates.

"Come on," he urged her, reaching out with bound hands and trying to push her along. After a few moments, she stared at him as if in a daze, eyebrows furrowed and fresh tears welling up in her eyes. There was no time to gently pry her from her shock, however. He grabbed her hands and shook. "We must make it to the keep!" he cried, and pulled her along for a moment before she seemed to understand what he was asking of her.

She followed along as closely as she could to him, and they followed Ralof into the keep.

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><p>Jackie couldn't help but feel like all the little pieces of her life were falling away and shattering around her.<p>

She felt totally numb as Bradas pulled her along into some kind of tower, or keep, as he had called it. Once inside, Ralof began speaking to the guy in the fur coat.

"Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages," he replied. Another roar split through the air and Jackie jumped. "We need to move, now!"

"Up through the tower, let's go!" Ralof agreed. Numbly, she followed all the men up the stairs, only to watch that part of the building torn off by that… dragon and kill _another_ person. Fire erupted from its mouth in great throaty bellows that actually sounded like some kind of foreign language.

"See the inn on the other side?" Ralof panted. "Jump through the roof and keep going!"

Jackie couldn't believe her ears. "What? We can't," she said, her voice hoarse. That inn was way too far down and away. They'd break their necks!

"Better than being burned to death," the elf guy offered with a grim smile.

"Go! We'll follow when we can!" Ralof looked about ready to push her if she didn't comply, so she took a deep breath and got ready to jump.

"I'll go first, you'll see it can be done," the pointy-eared man said, and leapt off the tower and into the inn. Forcing herself not to think, she followed suit.

When she landed, a sharp, tingling pain stabbed through her ankles and legs, but she found she could still run.

"Well done!" her fellow prisoner exclaimed. He began running again and she followed, less afraid this time to jump down to another level of the building after him.

Focusing on running with her hands bound and following the elf was difficult but she found that somehow she was able to keep going. With a vague, passing sense of panic she noticed a soldier leading the little kid that had wanted to watch the soldiers through the burning remnants of his village. Before she could think too hard on it, the dragon landed on the ground and spoke once more, fire blasting out of its mouth like some kind of nightmare.

"Gods! Everyone get back!"

She tried to identify who was yelling but felt herself wrenched backwards and it was all she could do not to stumble and continue running.

"Still alive, prisoners? Keep close to me if you want to stay that way," a man demanded. He was wearing the same outfits of those who had captured her but beggars couldn't be choosers at this point. They trailed behind him. He told his friend to take care of the little boy that was crouching behind a ruined house with them and off they went.

"Stay close to the wall!" he yelled as they ran, and she did her best until a huge claw decimated the wall like it was nothing, nearly killing them in the process. They only paused for a second, then continued their quick journey through the burning village, jumping over more dead bodies than she could count. They ran past of group of people who were—and she wasn't sure what she was seeing, since everything was happening so fast—shooting fire out of their hands? She didn't have time to look back to see.

The only time they did stop was so that their current guide could have some kind of stand-off with Ralof, who she was relieved to see alive.

"Ralof! You damned traitor, get out of my way!"

"We're escaping, Hadvar. You're not stopping us this time!"

"Fine! I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!" The man who had been guiding them barely spared them a glance as he ran off.

"You! Come on, into the keep!" Ralof yelled, taking off at a sprint. She looked hopelessly between them, and then noticed the elf going in Hadvar's direction. Without thinking, she followed.

"Quick! I can cut you loose inside the keep," he promised, ushering them inside.

* * *

><p>The keep was empty, and terribly quiet compared to the chaos outside. Bradas took a second to catch his breath.<p>

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it," Hadvar said, his voice the only thing that cut through the sound of their panting. "Was that really a dragon? The bringers of the End Times?"

His thoughts exactly. Bradas took a few more deep breaths and faced the man, offering his bound hands so that the ropes could be cut.

"We should keep moving. Come here, Let me see if I can get those bindings off." The large Nord unsheathed his sword and cut away the bindings, and Bradas rubbed his tender wrists.

"Thank you," he said.

Hadvar shrugged and turned to the young woman that had followed them. "Your turn," he muttered, cutting her binds as well.

"Thanks," she said, stretching out her arms and brushing her dark matted hair away from her face.

"There you go. You two take a look around, there should be plenty of gear to choose from. I'm going to see if I can find something for these burns."

Bradas looked around the room they were in. It looked like some sort of soldier's barracks, with chests lining the walls and little bit of food and potions on the shelves. Just perfect for their current needs. The first chest he opened was filled with Imperial armor and weapons.

"I'll be changing out of these rags, so either take a good look or avert your eyes," he told the gaping girl who was still lingering behind him. She'd barely said a word since early this morning, and she looked like she'd just had the worst day of her life.

He could sort of relate; it wasn't every day you saw a dragon. It wasn't however, the worst day of his life.

Deciding to ignore her for the time being, he quickly stripped off the rags he'd been given by the Imperials and changed into their armor. It was a little loose but it would do until he could find some cash. He picked up an iron sword and gave it a few swings.

"Uh, I don't think I can… I've never, um, used a sword," a small voice came from behind him. He turned to see her trying to fit armor over her clothes. She was watching him closely, as if he was one of the most interesting people she'd ever seen.

Strange. Her gaze didn't quite radiate with hatred like he'd previously assumed.

"No time like the present," he replied, opening another chest and rummaging through it for another weapon. He tossed her another iron sword and watched as she stared at it helplessly.

"Let's keep moving, that thing is still out there." Hadvar moved past them quickly and pulled a chain beside a door, causing it to lift open for them.

"You may not be handy with a sword, but now is no time to be picky," he said to her before following Hadvar.

* * *

><p>Neither of the men she was following said another word to her the whole time they were navigating whatever castle or keep they were in. It was just as well, because she was completely useless. As an average middle class American girl, she'd never seen so much blood and violence in her entire life.<p>

Her companions raced ahead of her and cut down enemies with surprisingly brutal force. The elf and the other guy made a quick and deadly team—it didn't even occur to her to worry about them because they were so mercilessly efficient. She trailed behind them awkwardly in her stolen armor, trying not to cut herself with the sword the elf had given to her.

She couldn't describe the relief she felt when they finally found a way out of the keep through an underground cave—by the way that Hadvar guy was talking, she was half-convinced that they were all going to die in there. They emerged out from the cave and into the open air one at a time, and she took a deep breath.

She almost passed out when Hadvar yelled "Wait!" On instinct she threw herself down onto the ground and waited until the dragon flew overhead with a deafening roar and disappeared into the distance like it had never been there at all.

They all sat there for a moment, crouched down on the cold ground.

"Looks like he's gone for good this time," Hadvar said, standing up. "But I don't think we should stick around to see if he comes back."

"I'm inclined to agree," the elf said. Jackie huffed and got herself up on shaky legs.

"Closest town from here is Riverwood. My uncle's the blacksmith there, I'm sure he'd help you out. It's probably best if we split up. Good luck, I wouldn't have made it without your help today." Hadvar extended his hand toward the other man and they shook.

"Good luck to you as well. If you are heading to Riverwood, I'm sure our paths will cross," he said in reply.

Hadvar looked to her. "Take heart. You've made it out alive today."

"Sure," she said, her voice raspy. "Thank you."

"Travel safely," he told them before turning and heading off in a light sprint.

Jackie and the elf guy sat in silence for a few moments. She looked up at him and studied his features a little more now that she was up close. His skin was truly an ashy blue color, and his long hair a stark black. It was supposed to be up in a high ponytail she could tell, but today's events had made it messy. Most surprising of all were his eyes—a dark, almost glowing red. They flickered toward her in what seemed like annoyance.

"Must you stare?"

"Sorry," she muttered, embarrassed. "Uh, it's Brady, right?"

He frowned. "Is what Brady?"

"Your name?"

His face softened; he probably felt sorry for her. Well, good. She'd just had the shittiest day of her entire life. "My name is Bradas Sarayn," he said.

"Jackie Carson," she introduced herself. "So I've never…" she looked helplessly back at the cave entrance.

He seemed to get it. "I surmised as much," he said, moving closer toward her and reaching a hand toward her bruised face. She jerked away from his touch and he frowned. "It's only a healing spell. You're not a Nord, are you? You certainly don't look it."

"Healing spell?" she scoffed, eyeing his hand suspiciously. "I wish." And why would he ask if she was a Nord? What did that even mean?

"Stay still." She really didn't have much of a choice, seeing as she was too tired and weak to run away. She wasn't even going to try after she'd just watched him cut down almost every person they'd come across in the keep.

"Please don't hurt me," she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping that asking nicely would help.

"I won't," he said, and grasped her shoulder lightly as he touched her cheek. She opened her eyes and saw that some kind of golden light was pouring from his hand, and she suddenly felt like she had just taken a nice dose of painkillers.

"Is that… How are you doing that?" she asked, sweet relief flooding through her aching skin. She didn't know what her face looked like, but she'd known it was swelling from the hit that guy in the woods had dealt her. Now, it felt as though all the pain and throbbing was going away, leaving her face feeling light and tingly.

"It won't heal you completely, but the bruising won't be as terrible," he said, ignoring her question and studying her face. "You don't _look_ like a Nord. Where are you from, Jackie Carson?"

There was that question again. She stared blankly. "Nord? No. I'm American," she replied, perplexed.

He furrowed his brow and she stared into his blood red eyes. It was a good question he was asking, actually; she would have liked to know where _he_ was from. At this proximity it was clear that he was not wearing make-up—either that or he was an expert at applying it. She didn't know of any contact lenses that could turn eyes that particular shade of glowing red (without looking totally unnatural), and his facial features were sharp and exaggerated. He could cut someone with those cheekbones. Not to mention the thin, pointy ears.

What the hell. She'd seen a dragon today, anything was possible.

"Are you headed to that Riverwood place?" she asked, interrupting the contemplative silence that had settled over them.

"I suppose there is no choice," he replied, backing away from her and staring off in the direction that Hadvar had run off to. He hoped that the Nord was serious about helping him out—if not it wouldn't be the first time he'd been led astray. "I'll get some supplies and head out. I presume you're going the same way?"

"Yeah, I think," she said, her tired eyes scanning the horizon. She looked exhausted, but much better than she had before he'd cast the healing spell. "Is it okay if we walk together?"

"I see no harm in that," he said, turning his back toward her and beginning the walk down the slight incline. He could hear her fumbling behind him and trying to keep up with his long strides, so he slowed down a little. It was a hassle, but at this point he couldn't just leave her behind to fend for herself. She clearly had no idea what she was doing.

Interesting, to meet a woman in Skyrim who'd never before held a sword. The world was a dangerous place, and even most nobles knew how to defend themselves. An inquisitive part of him wanted to know more, but there were more urgent things at hand—like the need to reach Riverwood before nightfall.

* * *

><p>The walk to Riverwood was slow, but it was mostly her fault. She was sort of ashamed at how out of shape she was compared to her pointy-eared companion. His long strides took him swiftly and gracefully through the forest, which felt like it would never end. She had to stop and rest a couple of times, and she could tell it was grating on his nerves. He was nice enough not to complain, but that only made her feel worse.<p>

It was evening when they finally came across a river, which smelled and looked heavenly. It was only a moment later that she noticed that they was actually a town right across the water, and she couldn't help but feel excited. "Is that Riverwood?" she asked, happy at the idea that this torturous walking could finally be coming to an end.

"I hope so," he said, still feeling hesitant about taking Hadvar up on his offer. Nords were none too welcoming to his kind. Hadvar could have genuine feelings of friendship toward him, but that didn't mean his uncle would. He peered over at Jackie, who was shakily making her over a rockier part of the road. Perhaps having a human with him would improve his chances of getting help. With a sigh, he held his hand out to help her. Without an ounce of feminine reserve she grabbed on tight and pulled herself across the rest of the rocks without falling.

"Thanks," she panted, giving him a genuine smile and dropping his hand. "You should win an award for patience. The Great Outdoors isn't exactly my forte."

He offered a thin smile, deciding against verbally agreeing.

They walked past a lumber yard and found a dirt road that led to the center of town, where a trading post and a few residences lined the street.

"There aren't any…" she trailed off when her eyes caught sight of a blacksmith's forge. Was that for real?

"This must be the place Hadvar was speaking of," Bradas said before taking hesitant steps toward the front door. "I'm going in. Are you coming?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He would have thought that she'd be eager to get inside, but instead she was just gaping at the forge like she'd never seen one before.

"Yeah… coming," she said, finally turning away and following him up the steps to the house.

* * *

><p>It was probably safe to say, at this point, that her hopes of finding a phone to call for help her totally dashed.<p>

She'd known it, logically—she'd just been hanging out with an elf all day and had seen a freaking _dragon_. Obviously she wasn't in Washington anymore. But although she had to come terms with the fact that magic was apparently real, she wasn't sure she could take the idea of not being able to get home.

Which begged the question: where was she?

To her great relief, they were welcomed warmly inside. She couldn't really focus on anything after that—Sigrid, Hadvar's aunt, ushered her to sit on one of the beds and got her a warm bowl of… some kind of stew. She didn't care what it was at that point. She hadn't eaten since she'd had a foil dinner last night, so this was like heaven in a bowl. She barely listened as Bradas, Hadvar, and Alvor talked about the dragon. All she could focus on was the fact that she was finally sitting down and resting her aching muscles.

"Have some bread," Sigrid said kindly, handing her a piece. Jackie grabbed it and stuffed it into her mouth.

"Sowwy," she said around her mouthful of bread. She swallowed and smiled at the older woman. "Thanks. Sorry to be so rude."

Sigrid laughed. "Don't worry. I can see it's been a while since you've eaten."

Jackie nodded and continued to eat her piece of bread, trying to slow down a little this time. The food was filling up her stomach and making her feel warm and sleepy. She must have visibly slowed down, because Sigrid said, "Why don't you rest for the night? You can take the bed by the fire," she said kindly.

"Thank you," Jackie said, her voice small and tired. She didn't remember lying down after that. Just darkness and sweet, dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Well folks, that's the first chapter!

I'm going to try my best to develop _interesting_ and _realistic_ characters. To be perfectly honest, I don't have much a plan for this story… and if anyone has an opinion of where this should go, I'd love to hear it! I am totally open to any and all suggestions. So please, suggest away!

Updates may be a little slow, since my school schedule is suuuper busy and I have to work on my other fics, hah! Please review!


	2. One Gold Piece

**A/N:**

So, important note. Cedar Falls is a made-up place! If there really is a town in Washington called Cedar Falls that is a suburb of Seattle… oops? I'm just playing here! Just remember that I'm totally full of crap, you guys. ;)

Anyway, on with the story! Let's go!

* * *

><p>She rolled over in her sleeping bag, her muscles aching. She knew she'd get a crick in her back from sleeping on the ground! <em>This<em> was why camping was the worst. Why sleep outside in the cold when you could sleep on a warm, comfy bed?

Except… she wasn't really cold. She was warm and toasty and all wrapped up in rough blankets. And she wasn't on the ground, either. She was on some kind of hard mattress. She lay still for a few moments, replaying the events of the past 24 hours in her mind.

It was funny how you could wake up in the morning and not remember that your whole life had fallen apart.

"Are you awake?" a young girl's voice asked. Jackie opened her eyes to see a little blond girl standing next to the bad where she lay.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice raspy.

"Mama told me to tell you there's a bath waiting for you," she said, placing her elbows on the bed right by her face and resting her chin in her hands. "Where are you from?"

Jackie sat up, folds of blankets falling off her body. She didn't remember putting them on… "Washington," she replied after a few moments, taking in the house around her.

"I've never heard of that place. Are you an adventurer?"

Jackie laughed, surprising herself. "Oh heck no," she said. "What's your name?"

"Dorthe," the little girl replied. "How about you?"

"Jackie. You said there's a bath?" she asked, catching a whiff of herself. Smoke and body odor were not a pretty combination.

"Yes, and a fresh change of clothes, too."

"Wow. Um thank you," she said, looking down at the rags she'd had to exchange her nice camping clothes for. She wondered what those soldiers had done with her stuff. "Um, Dorothy?"

"It's Dorthe," the little girl corrected good-naturedly.

"Sorry," she said. "Er, Dorthe… I was wondering if maybe…" the question was most likely pointless, but she just had to ask. "Your family has a telephone?"

As predicted, the little blonde gave her a blank look. "What's that?"

"It's nothing," Jackie said, her heart sinking. She'd known that it was a shot in the dark, but what else could she do? She needed to find a way home.

* * *

><p>The bath she took wasn't particularly warm or relaxing, but it felt amazing anyway. She felt the dirt and sweat and smoke wash off of her body as she scrubbed. She washed her hair as well as she could with the bar of soap she'd been lent, and came out feeling much better. She secretly wished for a blow dryer or a curling iron but she really couldn't complain—she wasn't sure these people even knew what those things were anyway. So she pulled her hair into a loose braid and hoped for the best.<p>

Sigrid had given her some clothes—a long tunic with a belt wrapped around the waist. Although she wished for some pants, Jackie accepted the gift graciously.

"Thanks so much. You've been so nice," she said, feeling almost guilty for taking advantage of Hadvar's family's hospitality.

"It's quite alright," Sigrid said kindly. "I can tell you're a long way from home."

"Yeah, I guess I am…" Jackie replied, fiddling with the belt of her tunic. "So… I don't suppose you could tell me where we are? I mean… where is Riverwood in relation to…" To the state of Washington? To America? To the planet?

"We're apart of Whiterun Hold," the older woman supplied.

"Whiterun?" Jackie asked hopelessly. This wasn't helping at all.

"Whiterun is the closest city to Riverwood," she explained. "And it's not a far walk from here."

"A big city, huh?" Jackie was immediately interested. Maybe in a bigger place she would be able to find something like technology or… or some answers in general. Sigrid looked curious.

"Where did you say you were from, Jackie?" she asked, tilting her head and studying her closely. "You don't look like a Nord or even an Imperial…"

Jackie felt her cheeks burn under the scrutiny. What did it matter where she was from anyway? "I'm from Cedar Falls, Washington. It's a suburb of Seattle…" That earned her a blank look. "United States of America?" she asked. The fact that no one she'd talked to so far had even heard of America caused her gut to churn.

"It must be very far away," Sigrid said. "Why did you come to Skyrim?"

So she was in a country called Skyrim, huh? "I'm… I'm not sure," she said, slowly, wondering if it would be a smart idea to tell her exactly how lost she really was. "I don't… really remember." It was sort of the truth, and it was the only plausible thing she could tell her that wouldn't sound completely crazy. Surprisingly, Sigrid seemed to accept this explanation.

"Perhaps some strange magic brought you here. Maybe one of the Divines," she said with a small smile.

"Magic…" Jackie scoffed, remembering when Bradas had healed her bruised face. _Magic is real. _She wasn't at all ready to reevaluate her entire worldview, but she really didn't have a choice now, did she? "Do you know a lot about magic?" she asked, thinking that she'd never expected to say that out loud without an ounce of irony.

Sigrid scoffed at this idea. "No, magic is for elves. We Nords have no use for something like that." She seemed to notice that Jackie was genuinely interested, however. "If you are interested in spells, you should go to the College up in Winterhold. Or you can visit the court wizard in Whiterun."

"You said Whiterun's not far from here?"

"Yes, are you planning to go? It may be wiser to stay here in Riverwood until you feel a little better."

Jackie could see her point. Although her previous injuries had been miraculously healed by… magic, or whatever, she still wasn't in any shape to strike out into the woods by herself. Although, there was one person who she had already travelled with… "Um, do you know what happened to the… guy I was with?"

"The elf?" Just hearing it out loud was surreal for her; what kind of place actually had elves for real? It almost freaked her out more than the dragon. "He may or may not still be here in town. Last I saw, he was going to the Riverwood Trader for supplies."

"Where's that?" she asked, wondering what she meant by 'supplies'. Was he going to just take off? Maybe he was going to head for Whiterun too, and she could convince him to let her tag along.

"Just across the street," she informed with a smile. "Are you planning to go to Whiterun soon?"

"Well…" She actually wasn't sure what she was going to do, but Whiterun seemed like a good idea. Especially if this court wizard guy could help her out. Maybe he could figure out a way to send her home? "I guess so," she said reluctantly. "I don't want to overstay my welcome… you guys have been really nice to me. I wish I could pay you back somehow."

"Please don't worry about it," Sigrid laughed. "Feel free to stay as long as you need, Jackie. Any friend of Hadvar's is a friend of ours."

"Thank you," Jackie said, relieved. She didn't intend to stay for long, but the fact that she had a place to stay for a little while was a huge relief.

* * *

><p>As soon as she was finished getting ready for the day, she made her way over to the Riverwood Trader to see if Bradas was still around. When she went inside, she was greeted by an enthusiastic shopkeeper. "Welcome to the Riverwood Trader! How can I help you?"<p>

"Hi," she said, looking around for any sign of her hopeful-companion. It seemed she'd missed him, since the only people in here were the shopkeeper and a woman who was cooking lunch over a fireplace. "I'm looking for my friend, I think he probably came in here."

"What does he look like?" the man asked.

She felt stupid describing him. "Um, he's an elf with dark skin? Long hair, pretty tall?"

"Oh, him," the woman by the fireplace piped up. "He left for Bleak Falls Burrow just a few hours ago. He's going to retrieve our golden dragon claw."

"You have a dragon claw?" Jackie asked with a frown. "An actual dragon claw?"

The shopkeeper looked at her like she was stupid. "No, of course not," he said. "I kept it on display here in the shop and some bandits stole it."

Bandits, right. Of course there would be bandits here.

"Oh, alright…" she said, disappointed.

"He should be back soon," the woman said, seeming to take pity on her. "A few days, at the most. Maybe you can meet him, then?"

"Yeah, that's true," Jackie said, feeling hopeful again. If she could just kill some time in Riverwood until Bradas came back, she could have some time to gain her bearings and make some sort of plan.

* * *

><p>Bradas Sarayn was no slouch when it came to dealing with bandits and draugr, but Bleak Falls Burrow was overrun with both. At one point he had cut a fellow Dunmer out of a web only for the man to double-cross him and run away. This wasn't a problem for long, though, and only a few moments later Bradas was kneeling beside his dead body and rummaging through his personal items.<p>

He flipped through the journal he'd recovered from Arvel's body, wondering if recovering a shopkeeper's mantelpiece was really worth all this trouble. He examined the glittering Golden Claw, wondering if he should turn back and return it to Lucan or continue on in search of the treasure Arvel had been after.

It wasn't a difficult decision.

He trekked on, cutting down draugr and searching through burial urns for septims, getting lucky enough to find a few jewels and old potions. He grinned to himself and wiped the sweat from his brow—these would be more than enough to buy himself a place to stay and a good meal. Then he could take off and enjoy Skyrim without having to deal with people trying to kill him. He'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

It was these thoughts that he hung onto when he came across the swinging axes. With a deep breath and a short prayer he darted down the narrow corridor past the sharp pendulums and right into some more draugr, which he set on fire without an ounce of grace or finesse.

Bradas continued to fight his way through the Barrow until he finally made it past a puzzle—the solution to which was engraved on the actual claw—and into a large, quiet chamber. Too quiet.

Carefully, he approached the center of the room, where a chest rested in front of a huge… shrine of some sort. He opened the chest to see what lie inside, feeling a strange pulling in his chest while doing do. He ignored it in favor of taking the gold and treasures that rested within, feeling satisfied that this trip had been worth it. He'd never been very attracted to caves or tombs; he hated the dark, damp atmospheres, not to mention the undead that almost always roamed within. But if all ruins had treasures like this, he thought, he might have to reconsider.

After tucking the last of the jewels into his pockets, he shut the treasure chest and turned around to face the curious stone structure behind him. His breath was suddenly sucked from his lungs and his vision blurred. He stumbled forward toward the shrine as if being roughly pulled, a huge, indiscernible sound filling his ears—no, his head—and a bright light swirling around and into him.

_FUS!_

He fell to his knees when it ended, gasping. _What in Oblivion was that?_

A cracking sound made him jump to his feet and he turned around to face a huge, angry draugr pulling itself from its tomb.

* * *

><p>In Riverwood, Jackie had two choices: stress out and worry about how she was going to get home, or try and distract herself with work.<p>

Or both.

For the past two days she had been helping out at the lumber mill, a job for which she was woefully underqualified. She wasn't ashamed to say that she heavily relied on people's pity for her to get by; she was pretty positive that Gerdur wouldn't have let her work at the mill otherwise. It was a huge change from her work at the beauty salon. She didn't like it, but there wasn't much else she could do. She needed to figure out her money situation… and her living situation… and just about every other situation, actually.

Over the days she spent chopping wood (or trying) and operating the large, industrial cutting machine, she formulated a plan: she was going to wait for Bradas to get back from Bleak Falls Barrow and offer her some money from her lumber mill earnings to take her to Whiterun. There, she would try to see this court wizard guy and ask him to send her back home. She was optimistic about this plan; magic probably sent her here, so it should send her back, right? Then she could put this nightmare behind her.

Bradas came back on the third day, looking tired and dirty. She was chopping wood when she saw him walk by without even noticing her, looking like he was either fed up with life or spacing out. She couldn't actually tell… his elven features made him look angry all the time.

Was that racist?

She put down the axe she was using and ran to meet him. "Bradas!" she called, waving her hand in the air. "Hey! How was Bleak Falls Burrow?" she asked cheerfully, looking him over. From up close he looked like he had been crawling through dirt and… there was a spot of blood on his armor. She diligently ignored that.

"It was damp, cold, and filled with draugr," he groused, continuing his walk into town. She ignored his sour mood and fell into step with him.

"What's draugr?" she asked, running a hand through her sweaty hair to try and look like she hadn't just spent all morning clumsily shopping wood.

He gave her a look that couldn't be mistaken for anything but incredulous. "You don't know what draugr are? You really _are_ from far away," he said.

"Sorry," she mumbled, jogging a little to keep up with his long strides. "Um, Bradas, do you have time to talk?"

"Later," he said, stopping in the middle of the road to turn towards the Riverwood Trader.

"Okay? Thanks…" she trailed off, watching as he stomped up the steps to the shop without looking back at her.

She sighed and sat down on one of the barrels by the door, determined not to let him slink out of town without talking to her first. He definitely wasn't the friendliest guy… elf… that she'd ever met. He seemed irritated to even have to be dealing with her at all. But he was the only person she knew besides Sigrid and Alvor's family, and she couldn't live off of them for long. They had been really kind to her, but she could tell that they didn't have a lot. She didn't want to be a burden to them.

She needed to leave Riverwood and Bradas was clearly some type of adventurer-type who could help her. If she could just get him to take her to Whiterun, she would get out of his hair…

* * *

><p>Bradas left the girl from Helgen outside of the Riverwood Trader, not wanting to deal with her at the moment. He was tired, hungry, and he needed to unload the junk he'd picked up from the cave.<p>

Lucan and Camilla were grateful and he was given a nice sum of gold. He sold off most of the armor and weapons he'd managed to pick up from the bandits, which also proved to be lucrative.

"Come back anytime!" Lucan called as he went out of the shop. Bradas gave a lazy wave and shut the door. Today, he decided, was a day for relaxing. After surviving that nasty ruin, he'd earned it.

Well, after he'd dealt with Jackie, anyway. She was still outside the shop, sitting on a barrel and leaning up against the building. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow. Had she really fallen asleep while waiting for him? A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he moved closer to look at her.

"Are you _really_ asleep?" he asked aloud, watching with satisfaction as she jumped and hit the back of her head on the hard wall behind her.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered, placing a hand on the sore spot. "It's just you," she breathed.

"Yes, just me," he replied, raising an eyebrow and watching her as she stood up and rubbed her eyes. She really was sort of pathetic, in a lost and confused kind of way. Something about her was completely out of place, he couldn't pinpoint what. She wasn't tall and strong like a Nord, nor regal like an Imperial or a Redguard, and she didn't have the fine, delicate features of a Breton. She was probably some mish-mash of races, he decided. Although that didn't explain her lack of knowledge… who didn't know what a draugr was?

"I was hoping to talk to you once you got back," she said with a winning smile. So she planned to charm him, did she?

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Um, I need to get to Whiterun." She looked nervous as she pulled a stray piece of hair back and tucked it into her braid. "I was wondering if you would help me. I don't really know the way."

"Why not look at a map?" he asked, only half joking.

"I don't know how to read maps," she said. He almost laughed until he saw how serious her face was.

"Are you joking?"

Her cheeks turned a brilliant shade of pink and she crossed her arms. "No… but if you help me I could pay you?" It was really more of a question than a statement, but the promise of money caught his interest right away.

"Really? How much?"

"Hm, let's see…" she put a finger on her chin and looked up in thought. "By the end of the day I should have thirty gold pieces from working at the mill. I can give you… like, ten?"

He gazed at her, unimpressed. He'd found at least fifty septims while rummaging through tombs. The dead had more money than she did. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah! I mean it's gold, right? Pretty valuable," she said, pulling out a gold piece and shaking it enticingly.

"A beggar could pay me more," he said, snatching her coin and using his thumb to flip it. She tried to snatch it from the air but he beat her to it and held it above her head.

"You'd steal money from a girl with less money than a beggar?" she asked, frowning. "Huh, I think I see why you were on that cart back there."

"No, thievery is not why I was in Helgen," he said as he tucked the coin into his pocket. She frowned, but didn't say anything more about it. "As a matter of fact, I believe that was _your_ crime."

"I didn't steal anything," she grumbled. "Listen, I just need to get to Whiterun. I can give you fifteen coins, but that's it."

"Don't bother," he sighed, knowing his mind was already made up. He'd take her to Whiterun, but only because he was planning on travelling there anyway to speak with the jarl. "Just be ready in the morning. It should be about a full day's walk to Whiterun if we don't make too many stops," he gave her a significant look, "So it'll most likely take us a day and a half."

"Yes! Thank you!" she said, looking like she wanted to give him a hug. He moved away before she could even think to execute such a plan. "Alright, I've got to get back to the mill and finish out the day. I'll see you in the morning!"

"Yes, the morning," he sighed. It would be a pain, but at least he wouldn't be stuck with her for long. He watched as she ran back to the lumber mill to continue mangling firewood.

He usually travelled alone, but he'd try not to let this weigh on his mind. He was already worried about what had happened in the tomb when he'd come across that shrine with strange writing. Logic told him that all kinds of bizarre things happened in those crypts, and that he should just be thankful he had survived it. It was most likely the remnants of some old curse, nothing else to it—and clearly it hadn't affected him. But worry had settled itself in the back of his mind.

With one last look in her direction he made his way to the inn. He shook his head—he had other things to worry about. He would be sure to get plenty of rest, food, and ale before tomorrow's new adventure.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Well? What did you think?

It's sort of a boring chapter, I admit. Hopefully the next will be a lot more exciting!

As always, please review! Let me know if there is a direction you'd like to see this fic take. :) I have _sort of_ an idea of where I want to go but nothing is set in stone!


	3. A Wizard of Back-Handed Compliments

**A/N:**

So, just a quick note as we're getting a little deeper into this story. I'm using the dialogue from the game as a guide, but I won't be following it exactly. Cause that would get boring, right? :) We all know what's going on in the main story (I hope…) so I am trying my best to strike a balance between events in the game and in this fic. So some dialogue may be shortened, edited or cut out for the sake of keeping it interesting and simple. I hope that's okay! Everything will pretty much be the same so it's nothing to worry about.

* * *

><p>"Jackie! Jackie, wake up!" Jackie felt little hands shaking her and she groaned. She opened one eye to see Dorthe, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Why did these people wake up so early? Why did anyone at all wake up before noon? Her sleep schedule was seriously suffering.<p>

"What, what?" she mumbled, placing her arm over her eyes to block out the light.

"Someone is here for you," Dorthe said urgently. Jackie's eyes snapped open immediately.

"Bradas!" she exclaimed, sitting up to see him standing in the doorway, looking unimpressed as usual. "Sorry!" she said, hopping out of bed and searching for the boots Sigrid had given her. She gathered up all her things—which wasn't much—and stumbled to the front door where the elf stood waiting.

"Need I say anything?" he drawled, standing up straight and looking ready to walk out the door.

"Wait—hang on a second," she said, turning to Dorthe, who was sitting on the bed and looking kind of sad.

"Are you going to come back and visit?" the little girl asked. Jackie knelt in front of her and gave her a smile.

"If I can," she said, feeling guilty. If all went to plan, she definitely wouldn't be coming back to visit.

"Okay," the little girl sighed, seeming a little bummed out. "Have a good trip."

"Thanks, kiddo," she said, lightly pinching the little girl's cheek and standing up. "See you around." She gave her a smile as she followed Bradas out the door.

Once outside, she saw Sigrid and Alvor working together at the forge. Sigrid looked up and Jackie waved.

"Are you leaving?" the older woman called.

"Yes! Thanks so much for letting me stay with you," Jackie replied. "I wish I could have paid you or something."

"We'd be offended if you did," Alvor said good-naturedly. The burly man cast a glance at Bradas. "Thank you for going to Whiterun for us, friend. May the Divines watch over you in your travels."

Bradas gave a firm nod and continued walking, and Jackie jogged a little to keep pace behind him.

* * *

><p>Bradas had been more than a little irritated to find Jackie still sleeping when he swung by Alvor's home to retrieve her, so he may or may not have taken long, swift strides for the first couple of hours of their trip just to let her stumble along behind him for a bit. It was a little mean-spirited, yes, but highly satisfying.<p>

It was a silent journey so far. He was more than satisfied to walk in peace, and she seemed too tired to strike up a conversation anyway. After a little while he slowed down, feeling that she'd been punished enough, and fell into step beside her. She was yawing and running her fingers through her unruly hair, attempting to braid it so it kept out of her face. She noticed him watching and gave a tired smile.

"I'm not used to waking up early," she said, scrunching up a lightly freckled nose.

"Clearly," he said, a smile quirking at some side of his mouth. Jackie Carson was possibly the most hopeless human he'd ever met (and that was truly saying something).

"Thanks again for taking me to Whiterun."

"What business do you have there? If I may ask," he said, fixing his eyes on the road ahead. Honestly, he had no idea what a person like her could be doing in Skyrim at all.

"Um, to see the court… wizard," she replied slowly, as if she were trying to find the correct words. "I think I need… magic or whatever."

"Magic?" he asked, curious now. What magic could she be talking about? This was the same woman who'd scoffed at the idea of a healing spell. Maybe, in the chaos after the dragon attack, he'd gotten her all wrong. "Are you a student of the craft?"

"Ha-ha, no," she said, her mouth pulled in a wry smile. "Um, never cast a spell in my whole life."

Bradas scoffed. Even if they disapproved of its use, even most Nords had used simple spells. "Not even once? You've never tried it?" He just couldn't imagine _not_ using magic—he'd been casting spells and creating enchantments since he was a young elf.

Her cheeks were flushed at his questioning. "Let's just say I've never had an opportunity," she said with a laugh.

He shook his head, astonished. "Even the most closed-minded of Nords have dabbled in magic, even those who deny it," he said.

"Well, believe me, I've never even… I mean, this is all new to me," she stammered, looking lost for words. Suddenly it all made sense. It was all new to her… everything. Working. Fighting. Magic.

"Are you some kind of noble?" he asked. Only the most pampered of nobility could be as hopelessly out of touch as she was. Clearly she was someone who'd had everything done for her, never having to hunt or fish or provide for herself. Which begged the question: what was she doing here with him, roughing it in the woods? How had she gotten captured at Helgen?

"A what?" she exclaimed, her eyes going wide.

"A noble. Rich," he clarified, raising a high eyebrow.

She threw her head back and laughed. "No way! You think I'm rich?"

He grinned to himself. Perhaps she didn't want to reveal her secret, but it was the only thing that explained it. She was probably the sheltered daughter of some obscure lord, on the run from a court scandal or the like. "Perhaps you'd like to learn some magic now," he suggested, ignoring her protests. If she didn't want to tell him her life story, fine. Many didn't like to speak about the past. But everyone needed to try magic at least once.

"Do you know a lot of magic?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"The Dunmer are especially skilled in the arcane arts," he said, grinning as he let a spark fly from his palm. Fire had always been a favorite of his. She stared at his hand with a calculating gaze.

"You can heal with magic, too," she said, remembering when he had mended her face with a touch. She watched his hands carefully to see if the fire was some sort of illusion. At this point, though, she was learning how to suspend her disbelief.

He closed his hand into a fist, extinguishing the flame. "Yes. Although I'm much better at destruction than restoration."

"Huh. You'll have to show me how you do it sometime," she said, not really meaning it. She wasn't sure she'd be able to do magic anyway—she had no idea how someone could do that without even thinking about it.

Bradas seemed sort of freaked out that she'd never tried it, though. She wondered what he'd say if she told him that most people she knew didn't even _believe _in magic unless they were crazy.

"Perhaps we'll find a spell tome for you to look at," he said after a little while, deep in thought. "Maybe you could learn a healing spell, especially if you plan to continue travelling after Whiterun."

She scrunched up her nose. "I won't need it," she said, "but thanks anyway." She saw him give her the side-eye but she ignored him. She was pretty confident that this court wizard guy was her ticket home.

"Perhaps you're right," Bradas said. After that, the conversation petered out. They continued to walk for hours in comfortable silence, stopping only to eat and for occasional restroom breaks.

It was evening when Whiterun finally came into their line of sight. Jackie cheered when Bradas told her it was less than an hour's walk to the gate—mostly because she was dead tired, and also because it had taken less time to reach the city than he had told her before.

"See? It didn't take a whole day and a half," she gloated.

"You didn't make as many stops as I thought you would," he teased.

They were walking past a barn structure when they saw it: an enormous shape in the distance swinging a club. She would have thought that the figure was closer if not for the shorter people swinging swords and shooting arrows at it.

"What the…"

Bradas held out a hand, stopping her. "Jackie, wait in the barn."

She squinted her eyes, not sure if she was seeing right or not. Was he really that huge, or was it an optical illusion? A trick of the eye? "Is that a _giant_?"

"Yes, now get in the barn!" Bradas ordered, glancing back at her and pulling his bow from his back. She'd nearly forgotten how different he was than her, how _other_ he was. He wasn't human, and he wasn't from her world. He looked ethereal as his eyes flashed crimson in the dimming evening light. She suddenly felt terrified.

"Go!" he growled, and she finally got moving. She ran into the fragile wooden building, shaking as she watched him run toward the giant and join in the fight.

She still couldn't believe that she was seeing a giant. A _giant_. Sure, she'd already seen an elf and even a dragon. But how could this place get any more dangerous? How could a person live in a place like this?

Bradas seemed to be doing quite well from where she was sitting. She watched as he drew arrow after arrow, running circles around the giant and the other fighters. He hit his target every time he fired, moving with a powerful grace she'd only seen in athletes. There was no way she could face down a monster like that—she was filled with fear even seeing it from this far away. And although seeing the giant up close was petrifying… in a way, Bradas was even more fearsome. She'd never thought anyone could run headlong into a fight like that, like they relished the opportunity.

In only a few moments the giant fell, thanks to the efforts of Bradas and the other warriors. He hung around with them for a few minutes, talking. Still shaky from fear and adrenaline, she decided to stay put until he came back for her—what if they turned out to be bad guys? How was she supposed to tell?

Fortunately, they only wanted to talk to Bradas for a minute before walking away towards the keep. She guessed that they probably lived in Whiterun, and were taking care of the giant problem before it made its merry way over past the walls. Bradas waved over to her and she took it as a good time to come out of the barn and see what he wanted.

When she joined him, he seemed to be staring at the giant in deep thought. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, avoiding looking at the enormous corpse.

"What?"

"Um, what are thinking so hard about?" she amended, remembering that he wouldn't know what a penny was.

"Whether or not I should take the toe," he said, bending over to see what the giant had kept in a knapsack it had been carrying.

"What?"

He looked at her funny and then sighed. "For potions. A giant's toe is a rare ingredient, but I'm already carrying too much."

"Oh, my God, that's so sick," she said, turning around and hunching over so she wouldn't have to look at the body and think about it. "That's seriously so—just _no_." She placed her hands on her knees and tried not to puke. Despite being exposed to quite a bit of death in the past few days, she was by no means accustomed to it.

"You have a weak stomach," he observed with a laugh. "Come on. Whiterun isn't much further."

She was eager to get away from the giant's body so she jogged for a few seconds. He just looked at her with an amused grin and followed.

* * *

><p>Jackie was panting by the time they reached the top of the stairs to Dragonsreach, and Bradas would have laughed at her if he hadn't been nervous about speaking to a Nord jarl. He did not expect a warm welcome, especially since he didn't have the best of news. He had, however, promised Alvor. He owed it to Hadvar, also, who had helped save his life.<p>

"This is where the jarl lives?" Jackie asked.

"Yes," he replied, staring up at the solid wooden doors.

"Must be a pretty important guy to live in such a big house," she huffed, still out of breath from the climb.

"Well, your court wizard lives here as well," he said. "Let's go in."

The main hall of Dragonsreach was busy and full of life. There was a great table filled with food and a great hearth with a blazing hot fire. The jarl and his advisors were at the front of the room, talking and debating about something.

The moment they approached the jarl's throne, he was relieved to spot one of his kinsmen. His relief was short lived, though, because the moment she spotted them she drew her sword. Jackie backed away instantly, eyes wide. He stood his ground, hoping that a fellow Dunmer would at least let him explain himself before trying to cut him to pieces.

"What's the meaning of this interruption?" she demanded. "The jarl is not receiving visitors." Her red eyes slid between him and Jackie, suspicious.

"I have news from Helgen about the dragon attack," he said, his eyes trained on her sword. Her face softened as she lowered it and slid it back into its sheath.

"Well, that explains why the guards let you in. Come on, then, the jarl will want to speak with you personally." She turned and led them toward the Nord, who sat leaned against the back of his throne, a calculating look on his face as he gazed at them.

"So, you were at Helgen. You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

"Yes. The dragon destroyed Helgen, and last I saw it was heading this way," he replied.

The jarl leaned forward in his chair, stunned. "By Ysmir, Irileth was right!" he turned to face his advisor, who was standing beside him. "What do you say now, Proventus? Should we still test the strength of our walls against a dragon?"

Irileth moved to the jarl's side. "My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once," she said urgently. "It's in the most immediate danger, if that dragon is lurking in the mountains."

The advisor, Proventus, stepped in to protest. "The jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation, and think that we intend to attack him—"

"Enough," the jarl growled. "I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burns my home and slaughters my people! Irileth, send a battalion to Riverwood at once."

"Yes, my jarl," Irileth agreed. Proventus looked chagrined and annoyed at the same time.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties," he said, stepping aside.

"That would be best," the jarl sighed. He turned to Bradas. "Well done, Dunmer. You've sought me out on your own initiative."

Bradas gave a nod and stepped back, satisfied that his promise to Alvor had been fulfilled. He turned to Jackie, who had been silent throughout the whole exchange. The only thing left to do was help her find the court wizard and he would be free from all obligations. He'd find a bed, some ale, and finally have some time to work out what he'd do with the rest of his life in Skyrim.

This whole Helgen mess was finally over and he could move on.

The jarl, however, had other plans. "There is another thing you could do for me. Come, let us see Farengar, my court wizard. He has been working day and night and needs some assistance."

Bradas concealed a sigh. There was always more, wasn't there?

* * *

><p>Jackie, for her part, was actually thrilled. She'd been under the impression that gaining an audience with the court wizard would be difficult, and they were off to meet him just like that? Awesome.<p>

This place, Dragonsreach, was amazing—especially in the room where the court wizard worked. Farengar Secret-Fire wore a hooded robe, looking like some kind of magical monk. There were plants and glimmering crystals strewn across the counters, and there was a table with markings and candles all over it. Ancient tomes and several pages of notes were scattered around the room. It was just the sort of room you'd expect a wizard to hang out in.

"So the jarl thinks you can be of use to me. He must be talking about my research into the dragons," he was saying. "Yes, I could use someone to fetch something for me. And by fetch, I mean delve into a dangerous ruin in search of an ancient stone tablet that may or may not actually be real."

Bradas raised an arched brow, a deep frown forming on his lips. She imagined he was getting pretty sick of people asking him for favors (which made her feel more than a little guilty). He sighed and closed his eyes for a second, looking irritated and intrigued at the same time, if that were possible.

"All right. Where am I going and what am I fetching?" he asked.

"Straight to the point, hmm?" Farengar said, pleased. "I like that. Leave the details to your betters, eh? Seems you're a cut above the usual brutes the jarl sends my way."

Jackie blinked, surprised at the sarcasm. Apparently Farengar was also a wizard of back-handed compliments.

"I'm looking for a tablet called the Dragonstone," he continued, beckoning Bradas forward to look at a sheet of paper with a drawing on it. "It looks like this. You'll find it in Bleak Falls Burrow Sanctum."

Bleak Falls Burrow? Hadn't Bradas just come from there? In a move that was just about the smoothest thing she'd ever seen, Bradas pulled something from his knapsack and waved it in front of the wizard. "Dragonstone? Do you mean this?" he asked, a smug smile on his face. Jackie covered her mouth with her hand and grinned.

"Yes! How did you get that?" the wizard asked excitedly, taking the stone from the elf and turning it over in his hand.

"So what about my reward?" Bradas asked, destroying the moment in one fell swoop. Jackie sighed.

"Yes, I suppose you'll get a reward," Farengar said distractedly, too fascinated by the stone to really pay attention. "Go see the jarl, he should take care of it."

Bradas turned to her and flashed her a crooked smile. "Your turn," he murmured as he passed by her on the way to the jarl and his reward. "Good luck, Jackie Carson."

"Thanks," she said, in high spirits for the first time in a long time. She was finally going home. "You're the best, Bradas. Here," she dug out the coin purse from her pocket and handed it to him. "I won't need this anymore."

He looked surprised, but he took it all the same. "You're sure?"

"Yeah. Take care," she said, patting his hand and looking into his red eyes. She genuinely hoped he'd make it in this ridiculous world somehow. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to. Farengar the wizard would definitely help her find a way home, she just knew it.

Before she could even turn around to talk to him though, the other elf, Irileth, came running into the hall. "Farengar, you need to come at once! A dragon has been sighted nearby," she said urgently. She turned to Bradas and said, "You. You should come too."

Jackie backed up, feeling like she should fade into the background. She had no desire to get involved with a dragon, and she would have been useless against one, anyway. Helgen was proof of that. Bradas, however, had a scary gleam in his eye, like he _wanted_ to see it again.

Farengar was also ecstatic. "A dragon! How exciting! Where was it seen? What was it doing?" he asked, running toward a breathless Irileth. Jackie just couldn't understand how everyone was so thrilled about these winged death machines.

"I'd take this a bit more seriously if I were you," she said. At least _someone_ had the sense to realize this was bad news. "If a dragon decides to attack Whiterun, I don't know if we can stop it. Let's go," she said, gesturing to Bradas.

He looked at her and slapped her coin purse back into her hand. "Take this, just in case," he said.

"Whoa, you're going to fight that dragon?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Are you kidding?"

"I'm prepared now," he assured her, looking pumped up and almost manic. She watched as he ran off behind Irileth, eager to face his death. She felt sick to her stomach at the thought. Why would anyone want to go after something like that right after they'd narrowly escaped it? It didn't make sense.

She shoved the coins back into her pocket with a frown, waiting for the court wizard to return to his workroom. Once he got back she would talk to him and get him to send her back home. And hopefully, in time, she'd be able to forget all about dragons.

* * *

><p>She only had to wait for a few minutes before a defeated-looking wizard wandered back into his workroom. She couldn't imagine why he'd be upset about not "getting" to see a dragon. He simply stepped back inside and picked his Dragonstone up to scan it.<p>

He almost didn't notice her until she cleared her throat. He jumped a little. "You," he said, sounding annoyed. "What are you still doing here? Aren't you with the Dunmer?"

"Uh… I was," she said, stepping forward. She was unsure of what she was going to say now that she was here. "Actually, I came to Whiterun to see you."

He sighed and went back to studying the stone Bradas had given him. "You seek audience with the court wizard of Whiterun, eh?" he asked, clearly bored with her company. She ignored his bad manners and continued.

"Yeah, actually. I have a… magic problem and I was told you could help." He didn't reply, or give any indication that he was paying attention to her. "Um, I'm not from Skyrim. Or from this world, actually." He paused and looked up at her, like he was trying to decide if this was interesting or not.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah."

"If you aren't from Tamriel, then where are you from?" he asked, sounding like he was speaking to a child with an overactive imagination.

She frowned, determined to make him understand how serious she was. "I'm from Cedar Falls, Washington, United States of America," she said. "I was camping in the woods with my friends when I got lost in the middle of the night. Then I ran into some Imperial guards and got captured… and now I'm in this place that has dragons and magic and…" she stopped for a moment to take a deep breath, overwhelmed. "Magic doesn't even exist, and now I'm talking to a _wizard_."

Farengar was looking at her, looking slightly intrigued. "Magic doesn't exist where you're from?"

"No!" she said, exasperated. "When I got here Bradas healed me? And he made fire come out of his hands?" The statements were more like questions."That doesn't happen where I'm from. But then someone said that maybe it was magic that brought me here, so I figured that magic could take me back. So… could you…?"

"You want me to send you back to where you came from?" he asked with a frown, finally setting the stone down and stepping toward her. He looked at her closely, observing her features carefully. "I suppose you _do_ look different. I can't tell where you're from by just looking at you. Where did you say you were from?"

"Um… Earth?" she replied awkwardly.

"Is that a country?"

"Er, planet." Suddenly an idea struck her. "No, wait. Dimension," she said. She was pretty sure that made more sense.

"Ah, I see," he said, as if that explained everything. "There are many realms, some that we cannot see or reach. If the story you're telling is true, then you probably slipped between these realms somehow."

"Oh. Well… can you help me get back?" Suddenly, her confidence that he could get her back began to falter. By just looking at him, somehow she could _tell_ he was going to say no.

"I'm afraid I don't have that kind of power," he told her. "It would all depend on how you got here, anyway. Since we don't know how or why you've been displaced, there's no way of figuring out how to get you back."

She felt her heart sink. "But… we can't even try?"

He looked annoyed. "Magic is a complicated art that can take years… no, lifetimes to master. It's not as simple as casting a spell and sending you off to a new dimension; it is much more complex than that."

"Oh," she said, watching as he turned back to his papers and books to do whatever he was originally going to do before she'd interrupted him. "Well… I guess I'll just leave now."

* * *

><p>Now that she had finally talked to Farengar, she didn't really know why she had been so convinced he could send her home. She really, truly hadn't thought of what she would if he couldn't help her.<p>

She felt numb as she wandered the city of Whiterun looking for an inn or a hotel of some kind. She hadn't really paid attention when she and Bradas had first walked through, not thinking that she would ever have to find her way around here again.

Finally she came across a place called The Bannered Mare, attracted by the smell of food. She hadn't realized she was hungry until just now, and although she felt like her life was falling apart she knew she still had to eat.

"How can I help you? Would you like some food or a drink?" the bartender asked her, holding out a glass of amber-colored liquid.

"Actually, yes," she said, taking out her coin purse. She supposed she was thankful that Bradas had given her money back before running off. She gave the barmaid some gold in exchange for the mead. "Can I also get a room?"

"Sure thing. It's yours for a day," she replied, gesturing for her to follow her up the stairs. She showed her to her room and as soon as she left, Jackie shut the door, drank her mead, and ate a piece of bread by the bedside table.

And then she had a nervous breakdown.

What was she going to do?

She had no money, no friends (unless you counted a blood-thirsty elf that was probably not going to let her hang around with him any longer than necessary), and no survival skills. Jackie thought of her family—her stepdad and stepsister. Oh God, what would they do when they realized she was missing? Were they looking for her right now?

And Dad had already lost Mom. What would he do if she was never able to come back?

She tried not to cry too loud or too hard, although it was difficult not to. She'd never felt more helpless or alone in her entire life.

* * *

><p>Bradas had been invited to drink with the men at the Drunken Huntsman for a job well done after killing the dragon, but he found that he wasn't in the mood. After speaking to the jarl and being told that he was dragonborn, he much preferred to be alone.<p>

Feeling tired and dirty, he marched over the inn and tried to get a room. There were some soldiers in there celebrating and they raised their flagons to him and tried to get him to drink.

"Not now, thank you," he said wearily. He turned to the bartender. "I'd like to rent a room," he told her.

"Sure thing. That'll be ten gold," she said, giving him a wary look. He sighed and began to dig the money out of his pocket.

"It's the room right up the stairs," she said before going back behind the bar.

"Thank you," he murmured, exhausted. He just needed a good night's rest before he even tried to process what had happened at the watch tower. He dragged himself up the stairs in search of the room that was his, and when he found it he fell into the warm blankets and drifted off to sleep right away.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Am I satisfied with this chapter? Um… I don't know. I tried to involve the original dialogue and capture the other characters in the game, but I don't know if I did too well. I have also been spending a lot of time editing it, though, which is probably why I am not liking it so much at the moment! Either way, I hope you liked it! There is more to come, and I promise the next chapter is much better! :)

Thank you for reading (and reviewing?!)!


	4. No More Favors

**A/N:**

Here's another chapter. I wouldn't have even bothered with an author's note, but I decided I had better _just in case_. There is some drinking and partying in this chapter. I know that the warning might seem overly serious or even superfluous, but sometimes even little things can be a trigger for addictions. Also, I am aware that some can feel offended when a character uses recreational drugs. So if it isn't your cup of tea, you can run away now!

Otherwise, please enjoy this chapter! ;)

* * *

><p>The next day, Jackie woke up with the hiccups and a pounding headache.<p>

Both were probably from crying herself to sleep last night.

She took a deep breath and held it until the edges of her vision prickled black, and then let it out. Then she hiccupped again.

"Nooooo," she moaned,miserable. What was she going to do now? Besides lying in this bed until someone kicked her out... she had no idea. She'd never before faced a life without options. Somehow she doubted that anyone around here was hurting for a hair stylist.

Jackie sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from her tender eyes. Life, it seemed, had no intention of cutting her a break, so that meant she'd have to figure out a way to survive in this place. She got up out of bed and straightened her dress, remembering that she hadn't even changed clothes in a couple of days.

_How pathetic can I get?_

She reached over to look at her coin purse. She had about 19 gold pieces left. She didn't really know how currency worked around here but she was pretty certain that it wouldn't get her very far.

* * *

><p>The first thing Bradas saw when he finally woke up and wandered down the stairs was a despondent Jackie Carson sitting alone at a table, looking depressed as she munched on some bread and cheese.<p>

Evidently her plan to go home hadn't worked.

He made his way over and sat in the chair across from her, curious to know what had happened. He didn't know the girl very well but it was a shame she hadn't figured out how to get back.

"Morning," she mumbled.

"Good morning," he greeted, eyeing the bottle of mead she had so far left untouched.

"It's a little early, don't you think?" she asked, scooting it toward him. He shrugged and took it in his grasp.

"I'm curious," he said after taking a sip. "You weren't able to make it home. What happened?"

"The guy says he can't send me back." she explained. He noticed that her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were red. "Although he wouldn't even try," she added, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he replied. "Have you any other ideas? You couldn't board a ship to your homeland?" He wondered where she could have come from that required magic to send her back.

"I don't think any ships go where I'm needing to go," she said. He didn't miss the quirk of her lips when she admitted that, like she was in between laughing and crying.

"I see," he said with a hum, not really understanding.

"I do have one idea, but I'm not sure if it'll work," she said. He suddenly had the sinking feeling that she was just about to ask him for a favor. That seemed to be going around lately…

"And that is?"

"I heard there's a magic college around here?"

"Do you mean the College of Winterhold?" he asked, setting down his drink and leaning his chin into his hand. "And it's nowhere close to 'around here'. It's very far away."

"Yeah! So there should be some pretty powerful wizards there, right?" she continued, full of naïve hope.

"… I suppose," he said slowly. It really was sad how little she knew about anything. He vaguely wondered how she was going to survive in Skyrim.

"So… if I could find a way to get there…"

"No, absolutely not," he cut her off before she could even ask the question. There was no way in _Oblivion_ he was going to escort her all the way up to Winterhold, whether he planned on going there already or not.

Her face fell. "You don't even know what I was going to say…"

"I know exactly what you were going to say," he replied, and by the look on her face alone he knew he was right. First it was Alvor, then the bloody Jarl of Whiterun, and now Jackie Carson. This was why he didn't help people out for free—they always wanted more! The pleasant feeling from a good deed always wore off quickly.

"Okay, but why not?" she asked, her lips pulling down into a frown. "I can give you the rest of my gold. It's like… almost twenty gold pieces."

"Septims," he corrected. "And I could find more than that on the street. Save your money," he advised, beginning to stand up. "I have things to do."

"Hey, hey, hold on, just sit back down for one second," she pleaded. It was so pitiful that he actually obliged, feeling the need to explain himself. "Alright, I know I have no money. But I'm seriously stranded here and I need to get home… If there was any way at all to pay you I would!" She looked into his eyes with her own watery ones. "I know I already owe you. But if you could do me just one last favor…"

He scoffed. "I did you a favor yesterday by bringing you out here to Whiterun. And believe me when I tell you I'm doing you a kindness by not taking you out into the wilderness with me." It was harsh, but it was the truth. Moments like this did make him wish he was able to do more, but he simply couldn't.

She blinked the water out of her eyes, confused. "Wait, _with_ you? You mean you're leaving?"

"Of course. Whiterun is no place for me," he replied. Despite the fact that he was actually a thane now, he still knew that he couldn't settle in this Nord city.

"But you're the only person I know," she said, frowning. "Why? Where are you going?"

"I have things to do that I can't do here."

"Like what?" she asked skeptically.

He paused, not sure if he should be honest or not. The truth was that he _did_ plan on making his way over to Winterhold eventually, or at least when he was done with the damn Greybeards. That had been his intention all along in coming to Skyrim. _To hell with it_, he decided. "My goal when entering Skyrim was to find the College of Winterhold. I'll make my way there eventually after I take care of some… business."

Despite her humble begging from earlier, she looked indignant. "What? Why not take me, too?"

"Because you are helpless," he replied, growing impatient. "You'll get yourself killed. Skyrim—No, Tamriel, is no place for a girl like you."

"I resent that. First of all," she said, holding up one finger. "I'm not a _girl_. I'm a grown woman."

"How many years have you lived, twenty? I'm sixty-eight," he said. "To me, you are a child." She gaped at him and he smirked, satisfied to have taken the wind from her sails. Unfortunately, she was determined to try and convince him.

"Okay, just for the record, I'm twenty-four. And second of all," she said through clenched teeth, trying not to cause a scene. "We managed pretty well yesterday, right? The only thing out there was a freaking giant. Which, after the shock wore off, was sort of believable. I can… Well, I can't fight… but I can learn?"

"You clearly don't know what's out there. Giants, trolls, bears, sabre cats… Not to mention the damned bandits, who'll kill you if you're lucky," he reasoned. "You wouldn't last more than a week."

Jackie let out a sigh and placed both hands on her temples. _Sabre cats_? Had she died and gone to hell or something? "So what am I supposed to do, languish here in Whiterun while you scamper off to a wizard college?" It took a lot of self-control not to say something about Hogwarts, because she knew the reference would be lost on him anyway.

"First of all, I won't be 'scampering off'," he groused. "And yes, you must languish here in Whiterun. The alternative for you is death."

"I think you're wrong," she replied, crossing her arms. "What do I have to do to convince you to take me? I have to go, it's my only shot at getting home."

"Are you quite certain?" he asked, crossing his arms and mirroring her stance. "You hardly know how you got here in the first place."

"I'm not seeing any better ideas!" she exclaimed, then looking around to see if anyone had noticed her outburst. Thankfully, everyone in the inn was either too tired or too drunk to care what she was doing. "So tell me what it'll take to get you to agree."

Bradas exhaled though his teeth. Part of him wanted to tell her to forget about it… but if she was really willing to pay, then who was he to refuse?

"Five hundred gold," he said after a moment of thought. He highly doubted she'd be able to raise that much anyway. And if she did, well… he won either way, didn't he?

She seemed to falter for a moment, but then finally nodded her head. "Fine. Sounds fair enough… I think." She sounded a tad suspicious.

"It's more than fair," he replied. So, it was sort of a lie, but obviously she didn't know much about Skyrim's currency anyway. She outstretched her hand to shake on the deal and he took it without an ounce of regret. "I'll be coming in and out of Whiterun for the next few weeks," he said, standing up once again to leave. "If you can come up with the Septims in that time I'll take you."

"Deal." Her lips curled up into a brilliant smile, her straight, white teeth glittering in the dim light of the tavern. It was almost a shame that there was no way to raise that kind of money in that short a time… unless she was planning on taking up the life of a vagabond.

"Farewell, Jackie Carson," he said, smiling from thinking of that ridiculous image. "And good luck."

* * *

><p>Bradas had left Whiterun that morning to… well, do whatever it was he was going to do. She couldn't blame him for not wanting to take her, but she was still sad about it. She knew he didn't owe her anything—in fact, it was really the other way around. She would never have dreamed of pushing for a favor the way she had if she thought there was another way to get home.<p>

But that didn't matter, because now she had a little bit of hope. She realized now that by putting all her eggs in the Farengar basket she had set herself up for failure. But if there was a whole college for magic, then surely someone around there would have some answers for her. And all she needed was five hundred gold pieces, or Septims, or whatever they were called. No problem.

Okay, so maybe her outward confidence about gathering that kind of cash had all just been bravado. But either way she needed to get started on it.

That meant she'd need a job. So she finished her breakfast, washed her face, straightened out her clothes and went out on the town. She may have just been a measly little hairstylist, but surely there was something around here she was suited to do.

She first asked the lady who'd rented her a room if she knew of any work around town, but all that was available was some bounty hunting job—clearly not for her. Hulda was nice enough, though. She promised to keep her ears open for any kind of work that wasn't so dangerous, so Jackie thanked her and took to the streets.

She walked past a few fruit and meat stands, figuring that those businesses were so tiny that they probably didn't need more employees. There was a place called the Drunken Huntsman that also wasn't hiring, which was sort of a relief. It didn't take a genius to figure out what kind of work environment a business of that name would have.

She walked by Belethor's General Goods, which also wasn't hiring—a guy named Sigurd had made that perfectly clear when she'd asked.

So she moved on to a place called Arcadia's Cauldron, where she finally found something to do. The lady who owned it, Arcadia, needed a few ingredients from beyond the wall just outside the city. There was also another woman, Ysolda, who was in need of a mammoth tusk. Jackie had just nodded obligingly as she listened to her request, only internally freaking out at the fact that _mammoths were roaming_ around this place.

"If I find one I'll bring it right to you," she'd said, wondering what else existed in this world that she didn't know about.

* * *

><p>She spent the next few weeks building up a regular schedule—she'd wake up, eat, and wander just outside the walls of the city in search of ingredients for Arcadia. Sometimes, when the crops around the farms sprouted up, she'd pick and sell the vegetables. Then at night she'd return to the apothecary's shop, collect her pay and spend the night at the Bannered Mare.<p>

Almost every day was spent scrounging around for lavender and mountain flowers and trying to catch butterflies. It sounded sort of silly in what she considered a "real-world" context, because it would have been her dream job at age 6. She was also abysmal at catching butterflies, and since she couldn't bear to pull off their wings she kept them in a little satchel to give to Arcadia later.

Jackie kept a few rules for herself when she went outside the city walls, and one of them was to try not to wander more than a hundred yards away.

There was, however, a watchtower not too far from the walls of the city, and one day she found herself curious enough to walk toward it, collecting lavender and mountain flowers in her borrowed basket as she walked. That's where the dragon had showed up, if talk at the Bannered Mare's bar was anything to go by. She'd totally forgotten to ask Bradas about it when she'd last seen him; she'd been too busy begging him to take her along with him.

Despite the brightly shining sun, the tower seemed to loom darker and higher the closer she got. There were scorched patches of ground and burnt plants surrounding it, evidence of the dragon's destruction. She caught sight of some enormous bones and walked closer, amazed.

The skeleton was in the shape of a dragon… but what she didn't understand was how it had already been reduced to bones. Hadn't it only died a few weeks ago? She was no expert on decomposition, but she was pretty sure it took longer than that to turn something into a skeleton.

"Curious about the dragon, are you?" a heavily accented Nord voice asked, causing her to jump a little in surprise. She turned to see a guard standing behind her with one hand on his hip, looking as if he was studying the carcass as well.

"Yeah," she admitted, hugging her arms self-consciously. "Am I not supposed to be hanging around here? Sorry…"

"It's alright," the guard said amiably. "It's incredible. In all my years, I've never seen such a thing."

"How is it all… bones?" she asked. "Were you here when it happened?"

"Yes, I was," he said eagerly, excited at the chance to tell the tale. "It was unbelievable. The dark elf slayed it and absorbed its soul, just like in the ancient legends."

"Who, _Bradas_?" Jackie asked incredulously. "What do you mean, absorbed its soul?"

"You're not from Skyrim, are you? It's an ancient Nord legend. The Dragonborn is a mortal with the soul of a dragon, blessed with the power of the thu'um."

"Thu'um…"

"A shout," said the guard. "You really are a foreigner."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed, adjusting her basket of lavender. "Well, thanks for the story. I'll be on my way now."

"Stay safe on the road." He said, and she gave a short wave and turned back on the path to the city. She walked along in deep thought.

Of course she had heard the rumors about Bradas. Living above a bar meant she got to hear a lot of gossip, mostly about people she didn't even know. The people who showed up to drink or stay in the inn, particularly soldiers, liked to talk about what was going on in other holds. Skyrim was sort of like a small town, minus the small part.

No one in Whiterun had anything bad to say about Bradas. In fact, the general consensus was that he was a pretty bad-ass fighter, which was something she perceived Nords to admire. She got the impression that people around here didn't like elves, but Bradas seemed to be the exception; every other night she was hearing about how he'd slain the dragon all those nights ago, about he was the Dragonborn.

She didn't really get what that meant, but whatever. She didn't "get" a lot of the things that went on around here.

By the time she reached Arcadia's Cauldron the sun was setting and the door was already locked. She knocked on the door a couple times and heard Arcadia scrambling behind the door to get it open.

"I'm so sorry, Jackie," she said once it was opened. "You were late so I thought you would just come by tomorrow. What do you have for me today?"

Jackie smiled and came in, placing her basket and knapsack on the counter. "No problem. I got distracted looking around outside."

"It's a beautiful view, hm?" Arcadia opened the knapsack and few butterflies fluttered out. "Oh! I should known better!" she exclaimed, expertly grasping the escaped butterflies with gentle hands.

"Sorry," Jackie apologized, trying and failing to catch one of the insects.

"It's quite alright," the other woman said, catching the rest of the bugs with an expertise that Jackie hadn't known was possible. Catching butterflies was hard! How could a person be so good at it?

"I don't like pulling…" Jackie caught a glimpse of Arcadia plucking the wings off the bugs one by one and quickly looked away.

"You have a gentle heart," Arcadia laughed.

"That's a real nice way of calling me a wimp," Jackie laughed, peering over to see if she was finished.

"A wimp?"

"Milk-drinker," she clarified. Unsurprisingly, the first things she'd picked up from Nord culture had been the insults.

"Ah. Well, that's not always a bad thing. Here, your pay." She handed her a pile of gold coins and Jackie took it with a grin.

"Thanks!"

"No, thank you," Arcadia said. "You're saving me a lot of work by going out there."

"Not a problem," Jackie replied. "Well, I'm heading out. Have a good night."

"Good night, Jackie."

* * *

><p>Jackie sat upright in the bed that had, for all intents and purposes, become hers. She'd never thought that she'd be the type of person to live above a bar… but then again, she never thought she'd get spirited away into some freaky medieval world filled with dragons, either.<p>

She added the coins Arcadia had given her to her little coin purse; her money was actually adding up quite nicely. She'd managed to save up just under three hundred coins in the three and a half weeks she'd been stuck in Whiterun. It had been really difficult, because she'd had to pay for her room and food and get a couple new dresses. She'd really only managed to save up so much because of her tiring trips outside of the city scouring the dirt for flowers and plants to bring to Arcadia. A few times she'd even managed to find a stray knife or sword to sell to Warmaiden's.

She sighed and leaned back on the bed, feeling exhausted. Mikael was downstairs playing the lute, _as usual_, and tonight was particularly loud. Most evenings were actually kind of peaceful but occasionally everyone would get a wild hair and decide to party. She didn't understand how weekdays worked here, but today must have been a Friday. She sighed again, more loudly, and rolled over under the covers to try and get some sleep.

After a few minutes of listening to loud laughing and drinking, she gave up. She rolled over again and opened her eyes, listening to Mikael sing the same song over and over again.

God, she _got it._ Ulfric Stormcloak bad, Empire good.

She sat up and decided to go downstairs for a little while. It wasn't like she had a set time to wake up, anyway. _If you can't beat 'em, join 'em._

She was greeted with a flagon of ale the very moment she made it down the stairs. "Here, have an ale on the house," Hulda said with a smile.

"What's the occasion?" she asked, taking a look at the dark liquid and giving it a sniff. It definitely wasn't any alcohol she was used to.

"One of those drunk guards overpaid, insisted that I keep the change," Hulda laughed. She was looking a little tipsy herself. "Why don't you join the party, Jackie?"

Jackie shrugged and raised the flagon. "When in Rome, right?"

Hulda gave her a funny look which she ignored. "Anyway, the soldiers just got back from battle. Stormcloaks."

"Oh, they fought?"

"There's always some kind of skirmish," Hulda informed her. "They met on the road and a fight broke out. They made it out with no casualties."

"Ah. I get it," Jackie lied, completely lacking the energy to talk about battles and fighting. She didn't want to get anyone started on the war stuff, either—it was a pretty touchy subject for most. "Well, that's great news. Guess I'll join the party."

Rather than actually joining the party, though, she just sat herself at a quiet table in the corner. She hadn't actually socialized much since she'd come to Skyrim. Not because she was an anti-social person, but because… well, how would a person like her fit in? The truth was that she had had plenty of friends back home, and even a pretty active social life. She used to go out to bars with her roommates and hang out with her coworkers all the time.

Here, though… she looked out at the people crowded in the bar. Mostly, people thought her odd, even when she attempted to talk to others and fit in.

So she sat in the corner and nursed her harsh beverage, wrinkling her nose with every sip but not stopping. Maybe if she drank enough she'd get sleepy and be able to ignore all this partying. It was strong stuff, or at least stronger than she was used to. After just one cup she was already feeling warm and happy, and just a little less irritated at Mikael's constant lute-strumming.

... Actually, maybe the reason it wasn't bothering her was because he wasn't playing. Jackie finished the flagon of ale and looked around the inn, curious to see what had happened to the noisy bard. She spotted him immediately at the bar, nursing his own beverage and leaning a little too close to Carlotta. Jackie rolled her eyes. Every time poor Carlotta came into the bar, the bard stopped what he was doing to harass her.

Turned out that there were womanizing scumbags in every realm.

Jackie must have been more spaced out than she thought, because before she knew it Hulda came by her table and replaced her empty flagon.

"Oh, geez, Hulda, you don't need to do that," Jackie admonished.

"You're a regular," Hulda said with a smile, sitting down at the chair across from her. "It doesn't hurt to keep a long-staying customer happy. Besides, you never order anything but stew and water."

"Well, if you insist," Jackie said, her resistance pretty low after her first cup. She was actually feeling… not stressed out at the moment, which was a welcome change. Now that she thought of it, she hadn't really allowed herself to have any fun at all since before she came here. "As long as it's free," she added, taking a sip.

"Poor Carlotta," Hulda said after a moment, watching Mikael as he boasted to some soldiers about his sexual prowess. Jackie glanced over at the man in question, who was declaring that he would eventually have Carlotta Valentia as his own. "I don't think he'll ever get that she's serious about rejecting him."

"What a jerk," Jackie said with a frown, looking to see where Carlotta was. She was still in the bar, having moved only to sit at the hearth and act like she wasn't hearing the bard talking about her. She looked incredibly uncomfortable. Mikael obviously didn't care that she could clearly hear him. _Ugh_, she hated men like that! Guys who just didn't get the hint. It just made her so… so… "You know what? That is not okay," Jackie said, suddenly feeling a bold rush of anger bubble up in her chest.

"What are you going to do?" Hulda asked. Jackie rose out of her seat and brushed some imaginary dust off her dress.

"I'm going to tell Mikael to stop being a creep," she stated boldly, filled with righteous feminine anger.

Hulda, bless her, didn't ask her what a creep was, but said, "How do you mean to do that? He won't even listen to Carlotta."

Jackie didn't know the answer to that. All she knew was that she needed to help a sister in need. She didn't respond to Hulda, but instead marched up to the bar where Mikael was. However, she totally lost her nerve at the last second—she wasn't _really_ going to tell Mikael off. But she could still try to get him to stop talking. "Hey, Mikael, can I make a request?"

The bard in question turned to look at her, poorly concealing his irritation at being interrupted. "Can it wait?"

"No, I _really_ want to hear 'Age of Aggression' again," she said. Oops, she hadn't meant for that to come out so sarcastically. Wow, what was in that ale…?

"I'll play it for you later," he said. Jackie almost lost all of her momentum right at that moment, and was about to turn back and sit in her corner before she caught the look on Carlotta's face. The poor woman was totally miserable. Jackie knew how it felt to be harassed by a totally creep; just about every girl did. There was nothing worse than feeling helpless. Suddenly, her anger and incredulity returned.

"Hey, Mikael? You need to leave Carlotta alone," Jackie said, her voice clear and concise. "Honestly, she obviously doesn't like you. So just back off."

He finally turned toward her and gave her his full attention. "Excuse me?"

Jackie swallowed. "You heard me. Leave her alone," she said, placing her hands on her hips and trying to look authoritative. She vaguely registered that the bar had gone almost totally quiet to watch the two of them, but she was honestly too nervous to worry about making a scene.

"Carlotta put you up to this, didn't she?" he asked.

"Uh…" Jackie cast an apologetic glance at the fruit vendor, who was looking at the two of them with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, but that fiery widow is mine. She just doesn't know it yet," he stated confidently. Jackie's jaw dropped. She'd known that Mikael thought himself a ladies' man, but this was just totally messed up.

"She's not yours," Jackie replied indignantly. "Stop saying those things about her. She's not into you."

The bard's face changed in an instant from arrogant to angry. "I don't have to take that from you!" he said, and Jackie watched in shock as he curled up a fist and swung it toward her.

_Was he really about to punch her?_

His fist made contact with her nose and she staggered backwards, totally shocked that he had actually done it. The bar was eerily quiet as she held her hand up to touch her numb nose. She felt warm, wet liquid on her fingers and pulled them back to see a significant stream of blood.

Mikael was looking at her as if he wasn't sure if he should keep going or not—like he couldn't decide if he had won this fight.

Jackie would never know what had propelled her (_her_, a person who avoided even verbal confrontations) forward to shove Mikael back as hard as she could. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was righteous fury. Maybe it was the stupid look on his face right after he'd given her a nose-bleed with a punch that hadn't actually hurt all that much.

"A fight!" someone cried, and suddenly the whole bar was in an uproar, people on all sides yelling and cheering and placing bets, excited at the chance to see some physical brutality.

Jackie balled up an unpracticed fist and hit him as hard as she could, missing his jaw but landing a punch on his shoulder. He was hitting her right back, landing more accurate and painful blows. Driven by adrenaline and panic, she fought dirty—she was all nails and knees and elbows, and she even tried to hit him in the groin a few times. She missed, but he'd definitely have some bruises on his thighs.

"Should never have come here!" Mikael grunted, making a swing for her nose again and missing. She took advantage of his wasted momentum and shoved him again, making him stumble. She didn't give him a chance to orient himself, too afraid that she would lose this fight and get the crap beat out of her. Instead, she punched him and slapped him until he became dizzy.

"Give… up!" Her voice didn't sound like her own to her ears, and she kicked and scratched at his crouching form until her finally yelled out in defeat.

"I yield! I yield…!" he panted, and she finally quit hitting him. He sat there, crouched on the floor for a moment before spitting blood out onto the floor. "You know how to throw a punch, I'll give you that," he said, his voice ragged.

She was filled with a sensation she'd never had before, feeling pumped up and victorious and wary all at the same time. "You leave Carlotta alone, or this gets worse!" she warned, feeling warm blood dripping out of her nose. She wiped at it with the sleeve of her dress, not caring if it stained or not.

"On my honor, Carlotta won't have to worry about me ever again," he promised as he stood up.

"Thanks," she said, and then wondered why she was thanking him after she'd just beat him up. "I mean, good!"

He didn't meet her gaze, instead walking toward the door and going outside to lick his wounds.

Then suddenly one of the soldiers let out a loud whooping noise, cheering for her victory. "A cup of ale for the lady!" someone cried, and then before she knew it she was surrounded by drunken bar goers who were patting her back and congratulating her on a good fight. She doubted they even knew what it was about, but she felt warm and fuzzy anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Alright go get 'em Jackie!

This chapter was difficult for me. I really wanted to show a tougher side of Jackie—but I am also really worried about making to her "too strong" or a Mary-Sue type. On one hand, she's a pretty huge wimp, but on the other she needs to toughen up to make it in Skyrim, ya know? This was her very first fight ever, so I tried to make it awkward and painful… but also successful, because we all know that Mikael is a big milk-drinker ;)

Also, there will be more Bradas in the next chapter! Sorry if you missed him!

Thanks for reading and please review!


	5. A Stranger to These Lands

Jackie woke up that morning with the headache of her life. She'd had hangovers in the past; she was, after all, a twenty-four year old woman who'd attended a few semesters of college. But never before had the post-party headaches been augmented with the pain of a bar brawl.

Real fights definitely weren't like the movies. She felt like she'd been hit by a truck… Her whole body ached, especially her nose where Mikael had first socked her. She touched her face gently, wondering if it had bruised.

She considered sleeping in, but she knew that a better idea was to get some water. And maybe a hangover cure.

The bar downstairs was silent and empty. Saadia was cleaning up and Hulda was in the other room cooking stew. A few regulars sat in the corner, drinking and speaking silently amongst themselves. The Bannered Mare was, thankfully, its quiet self again.

She sat at the bar and waited for Hulda to finish up in the kitchen before asking for a cup of water. The older woman gave her a knowing smile.

"Headache?"

"Whole body-ache," Jackie replied. The innkeeper just passed over her water and stew as Jackie slid her a few gold coins for the cost. "Thanks."

She mentally planned out the rest of her day, even though all she really wanted to do was crawl back into bed. She'd go out and gather ingredients as usual, scavenge for stuff to sell, and avoid Mikael. With a deep sigh she stood up and stretched out, ready to ask Arcadia if there was some kind of hangover potion and face the day.

* * *

><p>It was late in the afternoon when Bradas wearily walked through the city of Whiterun. He'd just barely caught the female blacksmith at Warmaiden's to sell the extra armor he'd gotten off of a group of bandits. The new money rested in his pockets, ready to be spent on a meal and a night at the inn.<p>

The last few weeks had been spent jaunting across the fields of Skyrim, seeing the farms and exploring the caves. It would be lying to say that he was focused strictly on business like making it to High Hrothgar… in fact, he hadn't exactly made it that far yet. He was continually distracted by the brilliant landscape. It reminded him of his younger days, which had been full of exploring the land around his family's house. He'd had no real obligations, concrete plans, or anyone to answer to. The freedom was intoxicating, and terrible for his productivity.

Life was different now—he was no longer a young elf. Well, as young as he had been, anyway. He had responsibilities now, although that could easily be forgotten while alone in the woods. Now, though, all of his worries were coming back to him. He had yet to do any of the things he'd set out to do. Here in Whiterun he was reminded of the dragons and the whole… Dragonborn… thing. He remembered the favors that some of the people here had asked of him that he hadn't done yet. And most of all, he remembered the girl from Helgen's request to take her to Winterhold.

This concern in particular was most pressing because he could see her out of the corner of his eye, walking 'casually' behind him and trying not to get caught.

* * *

><p>As the Dunmer tiredly marched to the Bannered Mare, exhausted out of his wits, a young woman from a distant land was trailing behind him, silently freaking out at his presence and wondering how the <em>hell<em> she was going to get him all of the money he'd asked for.

She was outside the city walls collecting flowers and mourning the future demise of the butterflies she was catching when she saw him trudging up to the city gates. She'd been tempted to greet him—after all, he was the one she was waiting around for, wasn't he? But what was she even supposed to say?

Ask him how he was and "oh hey would 300 gold work instead of 500?!"

She was pretty sure how that would have gone down with the grumpy-looking Dunmer, and she didn't want to have that argument anyway. So, rather than catching up and trying to chat with him like a normal human being, she'd followed him, planning to eventually greet him. She just hadn't worked out how she was going to do that, yet.

After just a couple minutes though, he turned around and looked straight at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, hi, Bradas, I didn't know you were back in town!" she said, trying to hang onto at least a little bit of her dignity. He gave her a withering look and let her catch up to him.

He sighed heavily, not having the energy to ask what in Oblivion she was doing. "I certainly am," he said. "Are you going to the Bannered Mare?"

"After I drop this stuff off," she replied, holding up her basket. "I kind of live there now."

"That's good to hear," he said, actually glad that she'd figured out her living situation. Just because he didn't want her for a travelling companion didn't mean he wished her ill.

"How was it out there?" she asked amiably, smiling as if to charm him. He frowned, her desire to join him and go to Winterhold not forgotten.

"Dangerous," he said, giving her a pointed look.

She deflated with a sigh. "I get it," she mumbled. "So how long are you going to be in town? I…" She was suddenly interrupted when they heard a commotion near the gate. Both of them turned their heads to see what was going on, along with many others who were out and about town.

"We're causing no trouble," a man was saying to a Whiterun city guard. "All we ask is to look for her."

"Look, you've already been told you're not allowed here," the guard replied firmly. "Now turn around and go back the way you came."

"Ridiculous," he spat angrily.

"We will not allow you within the city limits. Now leave before there is a problem," the guard repeated in his thick Nord accent. Although the people around them quickly lost interest when the stranger backed off, Jackie and Bradas continued to look on with identical interest.

"What's that all about?" she asked, watching as the man turned away from the guard in a huff. Instead of heading for the city gate, however, he caught sight of Bradas and began to approach them. She was a little freaked out at the way he walked up to them, so confident that they'd be willing to talk to him. Maybe it was because Bradas obviously wasn't a Nord, so he looked like a trustworthy person to talk to?

"You there!" the man said to them—or, more accurately, to Bradas. "We are looking for someone in Whiterun and will pay good money for information."

Jackie was almost embarrassed for the way her companion perked up when money was mentioned. "Who are you looking for?" he asked, all signs of exhaustion suddenly disappearing for the moment.

"A woman—a foreigner in this land." Jackie knew, logically, that they weren't talking about her, but she still felt a little freaked out. "Redguard, like us. She is likely not using her true name. We will pay for information regarding her location. We are not welcome here in Whiterun, so we will be in Rorikstead if you learn anything."

"I'll let you know if I hear anything," Bradas promised.

"Why are you looking for this person?" Jackie interjected, feeling slightly suspicious. She knew a few people who were from out of town—Arcadia and Carlotta just to name a few.

"It's none of your concern," the man told her. "All you need to know is that we're paying for information. If that doesn't interest you, feel free to walk away." He turned away in a huff, leaving Jackie and Bradas standing alone in the middle of the street.

She frowned as she stared at his back. Something about him… the way he spoke, his facial features… was familiar. Very familiar. She wondered…

* * *

><p>The pair walked toward the middle of the Plains District in silence, both in deep thought. Bradas' exhaustion had returned to him in a wave, and he was eager to get to the inn. He was thankful that Jackie was intuitive enough to know that he couldn't stand to talk—he was simply too tired. She'd only bid him farewell once they'd passed Arcadia's Cauldron, and made him promise to talk to her before leaving Whiterun again. He'd obliged without even thinking about it.<p>

He practically stumbled into the Bannered Mare and rented a room, wondering which one Jackie was staying in as the innkeeper led him up the stairs.

She slipped from his mind, however, the moment his body hit the bed of his rented room. Sweet, dreamless sleep took him right away.

Bradas woke up several hours later. He sat up slowly, wondering what time it was—probably late in the morning, judging by the light in the window.

And then his reverie was interrupted by knocking.

He instantly tensed up, his foggy mind not knowing who was on the other side of the door. He felt for the dagger on his hip out of instinct. "Come in," he said, his grasp sure and tight.

The door opened slowly to reveal a young woman with an apologetic smile.

"Jackie bloody Carson," he sighed, releasing the hold on his weapon and groaning. "I should have known it was you."

"And good morning to you, too," she said with a smile, not looking offended at his language. She entered the room and closed the door behind her. "Did I wake you up?"

"No, you didn't," he said, remaining seated and placing his hands on his knees to stretch out his shoulders. "What did you need?"

"Well I figured I'd talk to you because… well, I was going to out and gather more ingredients, but I didn't ask you how long you'd be staying in Whiterun last night," she said, leaning up against the door and lacing her hands in front of her. "I didn't want to miss you if you were heading out right away."

"I'm not sure how long," he relied, running a hand through his long, tangled hair. "Long enough to finish up some business in town. A few days at the most."

"Cool. Good to know," she replied, her voice sounding light but the look on her face faraway. He could guess that she was thinking about the money he'd asked her for in exchange for passage to Winterhold. She took a breath and met his gaze with a forced smile. "So. How's the wilderness?"

He gave a short laugh at that. "It's been fine. And Whiterun has treated you well, I suppose?"

She gave a small shrug. "It's been okay," she replied, looking down at her boots. "I'm just getting used to living in a place like this."

"You look different," he said. And it was true. She looked… a part of the place. She seemed more comfortable, at least, in a blue dress with a gray smock. Her hair was plaited skillfully around her crown and he could even see that she'd tucked a tiny flower into one of the braids. She was surprisingly fetching, although he supposed that anything was an improvement from the bruised, dirty, ash-covered girl he'd met at Helgen.

"Ha, thanks," she said, the corner of her lip twitching upward. "More like I'm not covered in dirt anymore."

"I am, however," he said, placing his hands on his knees and standing up. He needed to bathe. "A situation I'd like to remedy soon. Was there something else you needed to speak with me about?"

She took a deep breath in and placed a hand in her pocket, taking out a small but heavy coin purse. _Oh Gods, she's actually done it, hasn't she?_ She'd actually raised that gold and now she would expect him to take her to Winterhold with him. Damn! A part of him was excited for the money, and the other part dreaded travelling with a companion.

"It's not all five-hundred," she said, holding the small sack in her right hand like she was weighing it. "But it's close! Just two-hundred left…"

He let out a sigh of relief. "No money, no deal," he said, trying and failing to keep the glee out of his voice. She frowned and shoved her money back into her pocket before taking a step toward him.

"Please, Bradas? I thought maybe we could work something out… Like a payment plan?" she pleaded, looking up at him with dark, imploring eyes. He frowned, unaffected.

"No."

Her sweet look was quickly replaced by a petulant one. "There's seriously nothing you want besides money? Come on, I hate being stuck here!"

"Money is the only thing that will get you anywhere with me," he said, his frown deepening. He wasn't sure what she meant by that.

"I can do lots of stuff, Bradas. I have skills," she insisted, her body suddenly becoming a block from the door. "I can gather ingredients for potions. I can do hair," she pointed to her elaborate braids, "And I can even fight!"

"Ha!"

"No, really!" she protested, placing her hands on her hips. "I got into a fight the other night. And I _won_."

"A fight with what, a skeever?" he sneered. He found it hard to believe that a woman like Jackie would even try to get mixed up in a physical altercation—she could barely conquer a steep hill!

"What? No. A guy," she said, looking at him like _he_ was the fool. "I beat up the bard."

"Oh, Azura, what did I do to deserve this?" he muttered under his breath, placing his hand on his forehead. "No. I cannot and will not take you with me without the gold. Understand?"

Her shoulders sagged and she sighed, upset that he'd shot her down _again_. She hadn't expected him to agree to a payment plan but anything was worth a shot at this point. She knew she was totally getting on his nerves, but she tried one last tactic. "What if I knew something that could get you money?" she asked quietly, not wanting to be heard by anyone who could be standing outside the door.

He looked skeptical. "Keep talking."

"Remember that guy from last night? The Redguard?"

"Of course I do."

She took a deep breath, feeling guilty. She didn't know Saadia very well—the woman kept to herself—but she still felt a little guilty for selling her down the river.

"What are you thinking? Do you know anything?" Bradas asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Jackie nodded and placed a finger to her lips. "Shush. Yeah, I know something," she whispered with a nod.

"You have an idea of who they're looking for," he said in a low voice, looking at her as if she would reveal some secret if he stared hard enough. It didn't escape her notice at how quickly his attitude changed when it came to cash—it was like flipping a switch.

"Maybe…" Jackie said, raising an eyebrow. He was like a hound dog that had caught a scent. "Hey, Bradas, are you a sell-sword?"

"I see you're learning the vernacular," he replied with a smirk. "And no, I prefer to think of myself as an… opportunist. I will not do anything for the right price—even I have limits."

She groaned and covered the bridge of her nose with her hand. Sometimes she wondered what she did to deserve a situation like this—stuck in some screwed-up fantasy world, her only ally a money-hungry Dunmer who was probably a criminal.

"If you do know something, Jackie, we can split the gold," he offered. "Seventy-thirty."

"You mean I get seventy percent and you get thirty?" she asked, surprised.

"Of course not," he said with a quiet chuckle. "You get thirty percent."

"Ha-ha, nice try," she said with a snort. "I wasn't born yesterday."

"I'd be the one going to Rorikstead to retrieve the bounty," he said, grinning at her words. _I wasn't born yesterday._ He'd never heard that one before, but he liked it. "Fine, then. Sixty-forty."

"Oh, not _even_, Bradas!" she hissed under her breath. "Fifty-fifty. That's _if_ I even decide to tell you what I know!"

"You can't be serious," he drawled his voice going back to a normal tone. "That's far too much. You're hardly doing anything."

She looked angry for a second, but the expression was covered up with a saccharine-sweet grin in a flash. "Fine, then. You're on your own," she said, holding her hands out in fake surrender. He stepped back to avoid the gesture, only now realizing how close they'd been standing.

"I'll just find her myself," Bradas said, annoyed. Where did she get the nerve to ask for fifty percent?

"Good luck, then," she replied, feeling malicious. "Oh, and by the way, Bradas. If I'm right, I'm going to sabotage you."

He blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Yeah. You heard me," she said haughtily, tossing her hair back and crossing her arms. "I'll chase her out of town before you can even get to her."

"You will do no such thing," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"You wanna bet?" She was grinning but her eyes were fierce. "It's too bad, because I bet that guy would have paid a lot of money for that information. You just had to screw it all up by being a jerk."

He didn't know what a jerk was, but he objected to being called one. "We'll split it fifty-five forty-five. That is my last offer," he said firmly.

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. "Fifty-five forty-five," she said after a long moment, sticking her hand out to shake. Her took her hand and squeezed it a little tighter than necessary to hide his frustration, but she just squeezed right back.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Sorry this is so short, but if I don't cut it off here it'll get way too long! Don't worry though… the next chapter will be out really soon.

So, here's a couple thoughts about Bradas and the Thalmor. I did lots of searching to figure out the Dunmer stance on the Thalmor and decided that maybe they don't get along so well. There are a lot of theories but I really couldn't find any concrete evidence leaning one way or the other… just a lot of speculating. So as the story goes on we will find out more about Bradas and his personal issues with them. :)

As I am writing this I am getting further into the lore, which is interesting but really hard for me to comprehend! Ha. Hopefully I am doing well and not totally decimating the history!

As always, thank you for reading and please leave me some feedback! It helps me figure out what you are liking/disliking and motivates me to keep going! :)


	6. Forty-Five Fifty-Five

Jackie couldn't deny the nervous feeling that settled in the pit of her stomach as she watched Bradas approach Saadia from the corner of the room, nervous that he would do something rash. He'd insisted on speaking to her about the Redguards that were after her. She suspected that he really just wanted to see how much she'd pay to keep him from telling them where she was—former 'brother-in-chains' or not, she was beginning to think that he was probably, maybe, definitely some kind of criminal.

She couldn't hear what he was saying, but there was no denying the stiffness of Saadia's back and the terror on her face. Jackie felt immediately guilty. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all… she was desperate to get home, but was it worth selling out Saadia?

She was snapped out of her thoughts when a hand knocked on her table to get her attention. She looked up to see Bradas looking at her with his signature raised brow.

"Not getting second thoughts, are you?" he asked, not sounding all that concerned.

"No," she lied. "How did it go?"

"I'm meeting her upstairs in a few minutes."

"So it's her?"

"The very same," he confirmed, looking pleased. "Well done. I have a feeling that she'll pay to keep us silent, which means less work for me."

"Are you going up there by yourself?"

He scoffed and gave her a crooked smile. "Are you worried?"

She rolled her eyes. "Duh. What if she stabs you or something?"

"Your concern is touching, but I wouldn't think too hard on it," he replied confidently.

Jackie sighed, remembering the way he'd slain that giant. He was right, Saadia, or whoever she was, was probably no match. "Okay, I get it. Just watch out."

He gave her another 'you're so naïve' look and turned to head up the stairs. "I'll be back. Stay here."

* * *

><p>Just as Jackie predicted, Saadia pulled a knife on him. He was thoroughly unimpressed.<p>

"You so much as touch me and you're going to lose fingers," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "I mean it! I'll… I'll cut you in half!"

He didn't even draw his own knife in response. "I highly doubt that."

"So the Alik'r know where I am? What did they offer you, gold? How many are coming?"

"Put that down before you get hurt," said Bradas. Although he barely saw her as a threat, he still didn't enjoy knives being pointed at his face. She deflated and brought the dagger down.

"I'm sorry, just… just don't hurt me. I know you're not one of them, but you just can't help them… You can't let them know I'm here!" She sighed and set her weapon down next to her bed. "Please, will you help me? There's no one here I can trust."

Just as he thought. "Perhaps," he replied, "If there's money in it."

"There is," she confirmed. "I am not the person that the people of Whiterun think I am. My real name is Iman. I am a noble of House Suda in Hammerfell. The men who are looking for me are assassins in the employ of the Aldmeri Dominion. They wish to exchange my blood for gold. I need you to root them out and drive them away before they drag me back to Hammerfell for an execution."

Bradas thought quietly for a second. That was certainly a surprise… if it was true. He didn't feel drawn to side with either her or the Alik'r, but when it came to the Aldmeri Dominion… acting against them was worth more than any sum of money.

"How am I supposed to get rid of them?" he asked, strongly considering it.

"They're mercenaries, only in it for the money. They're led by a man named Kematu. Get rid of him and the rest will scatter. I don't dare show my face, lest they recognize me, so you'll have to find out where they are."

_Of course he would._ "Any suggestions as to how I find them?"

"I heard one of them was just arrested trying to trespass into the city. If he's locked up in the jail, perhaps you can get it out of him."

He let out a sigh and crossed his arms. Time to visit the prison.

* * *

><p>Bradas went down the stairs to retrieve Jackie. Normally he wouldn't let her join him on such a venture, but since they would only be going to the jail beneath Dragonsreach, there was little risk of danger.<p>

"There's a _dungeon_?" she asked incredulously, following him as they made their way to the prison.

"Yes, why wouldn't there be?" he asked. She always said the strangest things. "Are there no prisons in your land?"

"Well, yeah, but we don't call them dungeons," she muttered. She struggled to keep up with his long paces so he slowed down a little. "So what do you need me for?"

"You're getting forty-five percent of the gold, so you'd better earn it," was all he had to say in reply. He didn't mention that the presence of a woman might make a man in prison more inclined to talk.

"Oh," she said. "Um, are we allowed down there? No visiting hours or anything?" He just gave her a look and opened the doors to the dungeon. The guards mostly ignored them in favor of talking to each other, not caring whether or not they had business with one of the prisoners.

Bradas was able to spot which prisoner they needed to talk to right away. He was obviously a Redguard, clad in the Alik'r uniform. He was missing the telling curved sword, but it was clear who he was. He approached the cell, Jackie trailing hesitantly behind him.

"What are you looking at?" the prisoner asked, dark eyes darting between the two of them.

"We're looking for Kematu," Bradas said, leaning one arm against the bars. "Where is he hiding?"

"You have a death wish, then?" he responded. "If you now that name, then you know that to meet him would be to meet your death."

The Dunmer shrugged. "Does that really matter to you?"

The Redguard looked Bradas up and down in appraisal before grinning. "You're right. It seems we both have needs, friend—perhaps we can help each other out?"

"What is it that you need?" he asked, a sinking feeling telling him that it would require more work than it was worth.

"You pay my way out of here, and I'll tell you what you want to know."

"How much is that?" Jackie asked, finally piping up from behind him.

"One hundred gold will secure my release," the prisoner replied with a smile. "You can afford that, can't you? I suppose you'd better hope you can. Get that money into the hands of one of these guards and I'll tell you what you want to know."

One hundred gold. Damn! Bradas turned away from the bars and walked into the well-lit room away from the hall of cells. Jackie followed him, looking nervous. "Um, so one hundred gold, huh?" she said, wringing her hands. "How do you want to… I mean, I can pitch in, if you want."

"You'd damn well better," Bradas quipped, not really angry at her so much as at the prisoner. He should have known that he'd want his bounty paid. He sighed and took some gold out from his pockets. "I'll pay fifty if you can."

"Sure," she said, pulling out her coin purse before hesitating. "Actually…"

Bradas frowned. "What is it?"

"Actually, I think I should pay forty-five, and you should pay fifty-five," she said.

"What? Absolutely not," he replied, offended that she'd even suggest such a thing.

"Okay, but you're already getting more money than me." She placed a hand on her hip. "See, if I put in fifty gold, that isn't fair because I'm only getting forty-five percent of the profit, remember?"

He wasn't sure what was most annoying about that statement—that she was right, or that she was trying and failing to hide a smug grin. "Fine, I'll pay fifty-five," he said slowly, holding out his hand and letting her place her share in it. After paying the Alik'r warriors bounty, Bradas returned to the cell and leaned up against the bars once again.

"Your fine's been paid. Now tell me about Kematu."

* * *

><p>"So what's the plan?" she asked him once they made their way outside. She breathed in the cool air, finding herself relieved to be out of the dungeon. She hadn't realized it, but being in those damp, dark places reminded her of that day in Helgen when they wandered beneath the keep, wondering if they'd ever find their way out.<p>

"I'm not sure," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and sighing. "Saadia claims that the Alik'r are after her on the behalf of the Aldmeri Dominion. If that's the case, then I have no problem killing Kematu and his men."

Jackie's eyes widened. She'd never thought she'd be in a casual conversation about killing someone before. "Okay. Who's the Alder—Aldmer…"

"Aldmeri Dominion. It's… complex. Too much to explain right now. All you need to know is that they are led by the Thalmor," his voice was bitter. Jackie had a feeling that she'd never quite grasp what was going on in this world.

"That's okay," she said, not wanting to make him explain. "So, the Thalmor are bad, right?"

He grinned at the simple explanation. "Yes, that will have to do for now." They began to walk back toward the Bannered Mare, falling into step together as they spoke.

"So are you going to… kill Kematu, or whoever he is?"

"I'm not sure. There's always the chance that she's lying." Bradas said. He seemed to be going back and forth in his head, debating on what to do. "Perhaps I'll seek him out and see what he says."

"What do you want me to do?"

Bradas finally seemed to snap out of his thoughts. "Stay here and keep watch over Saadia. Make sure she doesn't try to run with our money while I'm distracting the Alik'r," he said cynically. "I'll leave now. Swindler's Den isn't far, I'll be able to get there by late evening."

"Got it. You'll be okay all by yourself?" she asked. Sure, she had seen Bradas fight, and she had heard enough about him to realize that he was probably some kind of insanely awesome warrior. But it still seemed farfetched to expect him to go into a cave and root out a whole group of assassins.

"Once again, your concern is touching," he said with a grin. "But unfounded. I'll be back tomorrow morning. Be ready to collect our gold, and don't let Saadia out of your sight."

"Sure," she said. They stopped in front of the Bannered Mare and he waved her goodbye. "See you tomorrow morning."

He gave her a short wave and continued on out of the city. She walked into the inn, still a little worried. There was nothing she could really do, though… he could clearly take care of himself, and she was pretty useless in a fight, anyway. She sighed and sat at the bar, resigning herself to the duty of making sure Saadia didn't skip town before he got back.

* * *

><p>The next day passed in relative peace. Jackie kept an eye on Saadia instead of going out to gather ingredients, although the woman did very little besides work at the inn. It was painfully boring, and she was about 99 percent sure that Saadia wasn't going anywhere. She'd thought it would be relaxing to stay in rather than go out and gather stuff to sell, but she just felt restless, wondering when Bradas was going to get back.<p>

If she was really lucky, they'd make bank and she'd be able to get enough money to get to Winterhold. She didn't let her hopes get too high, though—she didn't want to have them dashed again.

She sat at the little table outside of her room that overlooked the bar, idly watching as the people of Whiterun went in and out of the inn. She wondered what would happen if she wound up with enough money to pay Bradas—would he want to leave right away? Would he be upset about having to travel with someone so inept at outdoorsy stuff? Would he want her to be able to fight?

Her mind wandered to her tussle with Mikael the other night. He'd been avoiding her ever since, which she appreciated. She'd done pretty well with that… so maybe there was hope for her. She had been bruised up afterward but a potion from Arcadia had really helped with that. She knew would never be able to hold a candle to Bradas (he had, after all, apparently 'absorbed a dragon's soul'), but she hoped that she'd be more useful than she had been at Helgen.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she didn't care as much about being a burden as she did about getting home. Bradas may feel inconvenienced, but… finding a way back to her realm—dimension, world, or whatever—was the number one priority. It was hard to keep that goal in sight when it felt like so much else was going on at the same time, but she had to keep her eye on the prize.

She was so deep in thought that she almost didn't notice Bradas walk into the inn, crimson eyes scanning all over for her. She gave him a little wave and he returned the gesture with a terse nod of the head, signaling for her to come over to him.

_And they say chivalry is dead._

He looked like he wanted her to hurry so she went as quickly as she could to meet him.

"What's going on?" she asked. Instead of answering her right away, he made his way to the small, secluded kitchen, steering her out the door by her elbow, not roughly but urgently.

"No time to explain," he said once they had a little privacy and he was sure that no one in the bar could overhear him. "I need you to get Saadia. Tell her that I couldn't defeat the Alik'r and that they're coming for her. There's a horse in the stables waiting for her so she can escape."

Jackie felt her heart drop. "Oh, no," she said, eyebrows furrowing. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Yes, she will," he assured quickly. "Give me a few moments and then lead her to the stables."

Jackie frowned. "But why? You can't just get her yourself?"

"Just do it, will you? Time is of the essence."

"Uh, okay…" she said uncertainly. "Is something going on…?"

Bradas sighed. "I'll explain everything later, but now is not the time. Will you just trust me and do it?"

"Sure…"

He seemed relieved. "Good. I'll see you in a few moments. Stay alert." And with that he departed the kitchen, leaving her with more questions than answers.

_What?_

There was definitely something weird going on, but in the end she really didn't have time to analyze. Although she didn't actually know Bradas very well, she'd have to do as he said and trust him.

* * *

><p>To be completely honest, Bradas just wanted to kill everyone involved in this mess and move on. Unfortunately for him, that would have been quite difficult at Swindler's Den when he'd made his deal with Kematu for Saadia. The Alik'r had been hiding out in a bandit's lair, and he'd had to deal with the miscreants just to wade through a waterfall and get cornered by Kematu and six other Redguards.<p>

Then Kematu had proceeded to tell him that Saadia had been the one in league with the Aldmeri Dominion.

Someone was obviously lying. It was likely they both were.

Either way, Bradas didn't feel like trying to take on seven assassins at once, so when the Alik'r leader asked him to lure Saadia out so they could capture her, he agreed.

Somewhat.

He resented being used as a pawn in other people's games.

With his hand on the hilt of his dagger, he walked briskly through the city of Whiterun toward the stables. Jackie wouldn't be far behind him with Saadia, which would be perfect for what he was about to do.

* * *

><p>Jackie sprinted behind Saadia, barely able to keep up with the panicking woman ahead of her. As soon as she'd told her that the Alik'r were coming to get her, Saadia had begun to shake.<p>

"What? How? I thought they weren't allowed within the city! After all this, I have to pick up and leave again?"

"I don't know… I'm sure Bradas tried, though," she said helplessly. "I'm really sorry. He said that there's a horse waiting for you at the stables. And he said you'd be safe."

The barmaid looked utterly defeated. "If he really thinks this is the only way, I'll trust him," she said. "I won't waste any time."

Unfortunately for Jackie, she had really meant that. Saadia had thrown off her apron and booked it right out the door, not even bothering to pack up any personal belongings. The woman was a fast runner and she had a hard time keeping up. Instead of yelling for her to slow down, though, she just pushed herself to go faster. Saadia had too many things on her mind to worry about an out-of-shape customer slowing her down.

As soon as they made it outside of the city gates she could see Bradas at the stables, standing calmly next to a man wearing a light tunic and carrying a curved sword. She slowed down, confused. Who was this guy?

Saadia stopped running completely, a totally betrayed look on her face. "What have you done?"

"Oh, come now," the Redguard said, smiling. "You didn't expect to manipulate people forever, did you? Your luck had to run out sometime." Without any warning, he crouched into a fighting stance and raised his hands. Jackie watched, in awe and horror, as a pale green light shot from his hands and swirled around the barmaid. Saadia's whole body stiffened and fell, straight as board, onto the hard ground.

Jackie yelped and jumped back, covering her mouth with her hands. Was she… dead?

"Now, we'll take our friend here back to Hammerfell, where she will pay the price for her treason," the man said, turning to Bradas with a satisfied smile.

"She won't be harmed?" Bradas asked. Jackie crouched down to check on the paralyzed woman, hands shaking as she tried to check for a pulse. Sure enough, there was one.

"Not on the way back. Once we get there, it's not up to me," the man replied. "And as for you… I owe you a portion of the reward, don't I?"

Bradas graciously accepted payment. Jackie just felt sick—this was all her fault. She never should have sold Saadia out. If she'd known…

"Don't allow yourself to be fooled by a pretty face," Kematu was saying. "You're better than that."

Bradas smiled. "Of course, friend. Safe travels."

Everything after that happened so quickly after that it made Jackie's head spin. The Redguard turned around to pick up Saadia, and suddenly Bradas had reached one long arm out to grasp a handful of hair, wrenching his head back. A sharp knife slid easily across his throat. Bradas shoved the body forward and Kematu landed hard, face-down on the ground.

It was at that moment that Saadia began to move again, standing up with some trouble as Bradas approached her. Jackie watched, hand still covering her mouth in shock, as the Redguard woman turned her angry gaze onto the elf.

"How could you do that to me?" she cried, clumsily pulling a dagger from her waist. Jackie was no expert but it looked like she was still trying to shake off the effects of whatever spell she'd just been under.

Bradas seemed apathetic to her plight, although Jackie could certainly see why she was angry. In fact, she had some questions of her own. "I've done nothing to you," he replied, wiping his blood-covered blade off and placing it back in its sheath. "In fact, I've done you a favor."

Saadia took a few shaky breaths, looking at Kematu's body and replacing her own blade. "What are you trying to pull?"

"I've fulfilled my end of the bargain, haven't I? The Alik'r won't bother you anymore." he asked, his calm almost infuriating. "I believe you owe me something."

Jackie knew that Bradas was all about the money, but his scrupulousness in this pursuit always managed to surprise her. She watched as Saadia hummed and pulled out a large coin purse and shakily handed it to Bradas, her face a mix between anger, relief, and admiration. "You're right. It's a dangerous game you play, warrior… but you have done me a great service."

Bradas waited until Saadia was gone to begin going through Kematu's pockets. Jackie stayed with him though, presumably to get her share of the gold. Thankfully, there was quite enough to go around. The Dunmer was incredibly pleased to find 250 more Septims on the Alik'r warrior's person.

"W-wait…" Jackie's voice was small and timid. He was vaguely aware of her approach. "Maybe we shouldn't—he's dead, it isn't right…"

"He isn't using it," Bradas said simply, pocketing the money. He looked up to see her pale, stricken face and felt a surge of pity. He was so accustomed to death that he'd forgotten she wasn't. He took a few last things and stood up. "We've made much more money than I thought we would," he said, the words meant as a balm. "500 from Kematu, and 500 from Saadia."

"That's…" she swallowed and finally turned her face away from the dead man before her. "That's great. I guess that means I get 450, right?"

He could appreciate her attempt to do business although she was shaken up, but he decided to get moving, anyway. "Let's go to the inn and talk about it," he said, stepping over Kematu to stand beside her.

* * *

><p>Once at the inn, they went up to her room to hash out the payment details. She still seemed shaken up but he was glad to see her talking again. He couldn't deal with a brooding, distracted girl—he'd much rather not have to bear witness to any moral conundrums.<p>

"450 for you, since we've agreed to 45 percent," he was saying, counting out coins at the small dining table and purposefully avoiding any kind of deep conversation. Thankfully, she seemed to be of a like mind.

"Yeah," she replied, taking out her own heavy satchel of money and pulling out fifty Septims. "Keep my share. If I give you 50 more and make it an even 500, you'll take me to Winterhold with you?"

Ah yes, it was just as he'd expected. Bradas held out his hand and took her money. "That was the deal," he said, too satisfied with his loot to feel upset about having to travel with another person. Not only did he have 1300 extra gold, but there still were gems and weapons to be sold. "We'll be leaving in two days. You'll be prepared by then?"

"Yeah, I think so," she said as she tucked her coin purse back into her pocket. "What do I need?"

"Armor. A weapon, as well," he said, studying her. She would need something light—not only because she was small, but because she was weak. Heavy armor would only slow her down and get her killed.

"Cool, I guess I can just go to Warmaiden's and get something," she said, trying to keep her tone light. It was hard when all she could think about was Kematu lying in the dirt, Bradas kneeling over him and stealing all his belongings. While she could understand that this was a harsh place, she didn't know if she'd ever get used to seeing so much death.

"I suggest leather armor," the Dunmer replied casually. "Perhaps a dagger or a one-handed sword."

She grimaced. "Will I have to use it a lot? I'm not so good with swords…"

"You'll have plenty of opportunities to practice," he promised.

She gave a nervous laugh, avoiding his eyes. "Bradas," she said, looking down at a spot on the dining table where crumbs from a slice of bread lay. "This might be a dumb question, but… is there a lot of killing? I mean, do you run into…"

She didn't need to elaborate. He felt that stab of pity again as she watched her brush her fingers over imperfections of the wood of the table. He could vaguely remember how he had felt as a boy when he'd seen a corpse for the first time. Most people saw that kind of thing at a young age and the shock and fear wore off quickly over time. He wondered how it must be for her—a grown woman whose first brush with death was so late in life.

She was either very lucky or very unlucky.

"There will be bandits, Jackie," he said. "And with the civil war here in Skyrim… yes, there will be death."

"Of course there will," she sighed, giving him a weary smile.

He stood up, ready to go to his room and get some sleep. "Get some rest. Buy some supplied for yourself with your extra money—a bag, sleeping roll, food, potions. Don't pack too heavy though, there will be plenty of treasures to pick up on the way."

She made a face. "Treasures?"

"I don't intend to make a straight line for Winterhold, Jackie Carson," he announced. She raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, okay? Why?"

"I have business in High Hrothgar to take care of. Not to mention all the caves and ruins that are scattered across Skyrim. We'll be scavenging at every opportunity." His eyes flashed like they did when he talked about money. "You couldn't imagine how much gold can be found in tombs and burial urns. Jewels, ancient weapons and armor…"

"Burial urns?" she asked, eyebrows knit together in alarm. "You mean you stick your hands in _urns_ for money?"

"Of course. They aren't using it," he said, sort of relishing in her shock.

"That's so gross. And kind of wrong…"

"You can always stay here in Whiterun."

"No!" she said quickly. "I'm definitely going."

"Good," he said, feeling the satisfying weight of gold in his pockets. "We leave in two days. Be ready."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Did you know that the way Bradas pulled off that little heist is actually possible on Skyrim? And then you get so much more gold? I was researching the ways you could do that mission and when I came across that little bit of info I was like—Yes! That's exactly what Bradas would do!

If anyone is curious about what our heroes might look like, I got most of my inspiration from Pinterest… then I followed the links to tumblr (of course). If you'd like to see my inspiration photos, you can always go to my tumblr and check them out! Just for the record, these pics are just INSPIRATION... not actual character art.(If anyone wanted to do that I'd probably die of happiness, btw) I'd hate for anyone to feel like I was stealing their characters or ideas :( They are mainly there for me to look at and get motivated to write and be creative. I'll post the info on my profile. If you don't want to do that, you can imagine them however you want ;)


	7. A Land Without Magic

**A/N:**

Sorry to annoy you all with an author's note, but I thought it might be worth mentioning that I have no idea how to use a sword. Any information in this story about sword or dagger wielding, or archery, or just any kind of fighting at all is learned from the unreliable internet.

So for all the professional archers and sword fighters out there reading this (yeah, I know my audience!) please don't be offended if there are inaccuracies! ;)

Also, some fun behind-the-scenes facts! Nothing makes you feel more like a serial murderer than googling "how to fight with dagger". I'm pretty sure I have put myself on a watch list from all my research on swords, bows and arrows, and daggers. The things I do for love!

* * *

><p>Jackie was up bright and early on the day they were supposed to leave, packing up her things and getting ready to go. She'd been so nervous the night before that she'd barely slept, worrying about waking up late or getting hurt—or worse, killed out in the wilderness of Skyrim.<p>

She'd put on the uncomfortable leather armor, appreciating that she at least got to wear pants. Her bag was heavy, but she'd packed as light as she could: a change of clothes, some food, some health potions from Arcadia… and a bow and arrows from Warmaiden's. Adrianne had urged her to buy a sword as well, so she picked out a light steel one. She had to admit that she felt kind of stupid carrying all these weapons, since she had no idea how to use them. She'd bought a dagger as well, figuring that she'd be able to use that in case the blade was too unwieldy.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," she called, positive that she knew who it was. Sure enough, it was Bradas, who looked wide awake and alert—a feat that she had yet to accomplish this early at dawn. She generally liked mornings, but this was a little too early for her taste.

"Are you ready to—" he stopped short, staring at her. She adjusted her armor self-consciously.

"Hey," she greeted. "I'm pretty much ready, you?"

Instead of replying, he threw his head back and laughed.

"What?" she asked, cheeks flaring up. Bradas just shook his head and looked away, his ashen face turning a slighter bluer color from his laughter.

"You are hopeless," his voice filled with mirth. "Your armor is on backwards."

Jackie looked down in alarm. That explained why she was so uncomfortable! "Okay, get out!" she exclaimed, waving her arms awkwardly to shoo him out of her room. He obliged, still chuckling as he shut the door behind him.

Frustrated, she shoved off the armor and threw it on the bed. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," she muttered, too tired and nervous to see the humor in it quite yet. It was sort of comforting to see Bradas so relaxed, though. If he wasn't anxious about the journey, maybe she should relax, too.

Once she had placed the leather back on correctly, she felt a lot more comfortable.

"Are you decent?" Bradas called from the other side.

"Yeah, come in," she replied, still flustered. He opened the door and entered, still wearing what she would call a shit-eating grin on his face.

"That's much better," he said, red eyes looking her up and down. "And a sword. Good choice."

"I'm not so sure about that," she said. "I don't even know how to use it."

"I'll teach you a thing or two if I can," he offered.

"There'll be time for that?"

"Yes, plenty," he said, walking over to her bed to examine what she'd packed. "The road is dangerous but very long. Perhaps we'll have time for some magic, as well…"

She guessed she should have felt lucky that he was so willing to help her out and teach her some moves, but she had some serious doubts about the magic part. "Maybe," she said noncommittally.

When he seemed satisfied at all the stuff she'd packed, he turned to her and hummed. "You've got the armor on right, mostly. Raise your arms."

She raised her arms and felt him pulling and adjusting some straps, making the outfit mold a little better to her body.

"There. A better fit means better protection. You should be able to move around without any trouble."

"Thanks," she said, getting the feeling that he was enjoying bossing her around. Instead of complaining, though, she took a deep breath and smiled. She was finally taking steps to getting home. Although it was early in the morning, and she was hanging out with an elf who probably thought she was totally incompetent, things were looking pretty good.

* * *

><p>Before they left the city, Bradas took out a slightly worn map and spread it out on a table for her to see. "We're right here," he told her, pointing to the hand-drawn symbol of Whiterun. She tilted her head and watched as he traced a long finger down the path they were taking. "We'll be passing back through Riverwood and around the mountain. We should be in Ivarstead in about three days, barring any disruptions."<p>

"Did you draw that map?" she asked, crouching over to get a better look. Some of the towns were labelled, but not in any hand she could read. She knew that any books or maps here had to be hand-written, which boggled her modern mind.

"I purchased it at the Riverwood Trader when we first arrived," he replied. "Some locations were already there," he pointed to a few symbols, "but I've been adding to it as I travel."

"Wow," she said. She couldn't even read a map, let alone add onto it. He rolled it up and set it snugly in a knapsack.

"From Ivarstead we'll climb the Seven Thousand Steps to High Hrothgar." He paused for a second. "You can stay in town while I do that, if you prefer."

"Maybe I will, seven thousand steps is a lot," she joked. He just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at her.

"We'll see when we get there," he said.

After that, there was a lot of walking.

* * *

><p>They set a goal to reach Riverwood by nightfall. The stretch of forest between Whiterun and the smaller village was surprisingly peaceful except for the occasional pack of wolves, which were no match for his bow. Bradas skinned them for their pelts, and Jackie watched, looking totally disgusted.<p>

"You have to be nobility," he said as he handed the pelts to her to carry. She hadn't outwardly complained, but the faces she was making told him the real story.

"I'm really not," she insisted. Bradas was pretty sure he knew better—at the very least she had to be from a wealthy family. He wasn't going to push the issue, though. Like everyone, she was entitled to keep her secrets.

"Shall we stop for lunch?" he asked, feeling hungry. Normally he would just grab food and eat on the go, but now he had another person to consider. He wasn't sure how long Jackie would last at this rate—she wasn't complaining but he could see that she was getting worn out.

He was remembering exactly why he didn't travel with other people—they usually slowed him down. He didn't let himself worry about it, though—the extra gold in his pocket helped soothe the irritation.

He figured that a short rest and a bite to eat would give them both a little more energy. His companion looked all too happy with the idea.

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," she said happily, looking around in search for a place to sit. They settled down on the log of a fallen tree and rummaged through their bags to find an easy meal. "Kind of like a picnic," she said as she took a bite into a slice of bread.

He chuckled as he peeled a tart green apple with a dagger. "That's one way of looking at it."

Jackie hummed in response and started eating a cheese slice. "I miss food. Real food, I mean."

"As opposed to fake food?"

She laughed and covered her full mouth. "No, I mean, like… food from home."

"Ah," he replied in understanding. For all of their differences, they had this in common. It had been many years since Bradas had been in Morrowind, but he still hadn't tasted as hearty a soup or as sweet an ale since he'd left home. "Perhaps you'll find something that reminds you of home here in Skyrim."

She shrugged, looking kind of sad. "I could probably just make something, but I'm worried I'll burn myself over a fire pit," she admitted.

"I suppose you're saying that I'll be doing all the cooking when we make camp?" he asked lightly.

She grinned, flashing her unusually white, straight teeth. "I like a man who can cook."

After their short lunch they continued on to Riverwood. It was evening when they finally reached the Sleeping Giant Inn, both dragging their feet and exhausted out of their wits.

The Sleeping Giant was different from the Bannered Mare in that there was absolutely no privacy in any of the rooms. It was very utilitarian, with one small bed to a chamber and no doors. Despite all this, it was warm and cozy, the beds beckoning to weary travelers. They each paid for their rooms and ate slowly at the table, feeling the warmth from the fire and growing sleepy.

"I'll see you in the morning," Jackie said, standing up once she'd finished her meal. "I'm about to pass out."

"Good night," he replied, feeling inclined to do the same. They both fell asleep the moment their bodies hit their respective beds.

* * *

><p>Jackie woke up feeling sore and achy.<p>

It took a few seconds to realize where she was. She'd gotten so used to sleeping at The Bannered Mare that it was sort of scary to wake up back in Riverwood. She sat up slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the soft light coming through the window. Some part of her had expected Bradas to be shaking her awake, demanding to go right away, so it was a pleasant surprise to be able to wake up on her own.

She didn't have a watch, but judging by the chill in the air and the slow activity in the bar she figured it was early morning. She wandered out to the counter where Delphine sat, awake and ready to help customers. She borrowed a water bucket from the innkeeper and washed her face with cold water. Bracing herself, she scrubbed her armpits and other sweaty parts of her body, which woke her up fully and made her desperately miss hot showers.

After that she pulled some trousers over her legs and pulled on a loose tunic. Over that went her armor, which she was sort of getting the hang of, and finally, she braided her long hair out of her face.

Wow, was she ready before Bradas? She was kind of proud.

Fully dressed now, she made her way next door to see what Bradas was up to. Hopefully she wouldn't have to wake him up; she knew from experience that being someone's alarm clock was not a good way to endear yourself to them.

Luckily he was already sitting up in bed, looking angry at life. His hands were on his knees and his hair was hanging out of its usual tie as he stared at the floor trying to wake up.

"Morning," she said gently, approaching him as if he was a deer ready to flee. Or a lion getting ready to attack. She didn't know how he was in the mornings yet, so she figured it was safest to be as quiet and calm as possible.

"Unfortunately," he muttered darkly. It figured he'd be grumpy in the mornings. She had a feeling that if Bradas lived in her world, he would be one of those people to insist that no one speak to them before their morning coffee.

Speaking of coffee, she would have killed for a continental breakfast. Ah, how she missed America. "You hungry?" she asked, sitting down on the chest in front of his bed and watching as he stretched out.

"I'll eat on the road," he replied, sighing heavily and running his hand through his hair. "I see you're already awake."

She shrugged. "I just woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep."

He examined her for a brief moment. She was all dressed and ready, her face glowing and her hair sweeping back in a graceful braid. She was like morning personified, which, in his current state of exhaustion, was incredibly annoying. "Alright, give me five minutes," he groused, standing up.

"Sure thing, take your time," she chirped, swinging her legs off the chest and hopping up. "I'll grab us some breakfast."

The Dunmer watched her exit his room and let out yet another tired sigh. Not only was he stuck with a travelling companion, but she was a _morning person_.

* * *

><p>Bradas didn't take long to get ready, and within ten minutes they were on the road, watching Riverwood disappear behind them.<p>

"I suppose I should tell you that there will be bandits when we reach Helgen," he said, feeling a little more awake. Now was the time to tell her, he decided, while she could prepare.

"What? How do you know?" she asked, a worried frown across her lips.

"Those reprobates are everywhere," he replied. "Old keeps are always overrun with them. Now that there are no guards, they're bound to have settled in. You have a dagger?"

"Yeah," she said, placing her hand on the knife on her waist.

"I assume you don't know how to use it?" he asked, a smirk on his face. Jackie rolled her eyes.

"I feel like I should state for the record that I'm competent in other things," she quipped. He motioned for her to take her dagger out of the sheath and she complied, feeling its awkward weight in her right hand.

"I don't expect you to fight, but you may have to defend yourself," he said. They had stopped walking completely now, standing and squaring off in the middle of the road. "I prefer the bow and arrow, but I can show you a few things with a knife."

"Not sure about this," she mumbled, watching warily as Bradas removed his own dagger, taking hold of it as if he'd been born with it in his hands.

She wasn't even sure if she was holding hers correctly.

"Loosen your stance, Jackie," he instructed, demonstrating for her by bending his knees and leaning forward a little. She followed his motions awkwardly. Slowly and carefully he stepped into her personal space with his knife, mock attacking her. "Most opponents will come at you like this—much faster, obviously—so you can use your dominant arm to block the blade." He used his hand to lift her elbow up and their blades clicked together lightly as if they were in a very slow, very gentle knife fight. "Keep your arms up and your chin tucked to make your neck harder to get to."

"What if they cut my arms?" she asked, unable to envision herself in an actual dagger fight.

"Better to have your arms cut than your body," he replied. He stepped away and sheathed his knife. "If you get into a scrape, take the first chance you can to run away."

"That's probably what I'd be better at," she said with a laugh. "What about you?"

He gave her an almost feral grin. "You needn't worry about me. If we do run into trouble, do exactly as I say. You should be fine as long as you don't step into the line of fire."

She nodded, feeling the weight of such a statement heavily. It bummed her out that she was kind of useless in a fight, but she wasn't in any hurry to prove herself. "Got it," she said quietly.

* * *

><p>Bradas usually liked being right, but right now he was just annoyed.<p>

They had trundled along on the road to Helgen, making great time that whole morning. It was late in the afternoon when they were finally in sight of the crumbled, decrepit keep. Just as he had thought, there were signs of bandits everywhere—unkempt fire places, food and scavenged armor lying around, booze sitting in places it had no business being.

He crouched down and padded lightly on his feet, leading Jackie through the ruins of the village. She was a little loud behind him, but it wasn't enough for the average bandit to hear. They approached the ruined hold quietly, sneaking very slowly to avoid unwanted attention. Two bandits were standing casually just inside the threshold to the courtyard, talking and generally doing a terrible job of keeping watch.

"… said that the kid was mine. That's ridiculous! That little brat don't look nothin' like me…" one of the miscreants was prattling on to the other. Bradas' lip curled in disgust as he nocked an arrow into his bow, drawing and waiting for just the right moment to strike. Bandits were some of the worst kinds of people, and he was eager to rid the world of a couple.

His arrow flew with marvelous accuracy and hit one of them right in the throat. He heard a gasp from behind him and ignored it in favor of putting an arrow through the arm, and then through the head, of the other bandit.

Still crouching, he moved forward, sharp eyes scanning for more. There were, in fact, several more bandits standing within the outer walls of the keep who had failed to notice their fallen comrades. They didn't even know of the danger among them. Bradas grinned and nocked another arrow.

* * *

><p>Jackie was about 100 percent positive that she would never get used to this type of brutality. She watched in fear and awe as Bradas shot bandits one by one, taking them down with a silent ease that was terrifying. It was all happening so fast that she could barely wrap her brain around it.<p>

They hadn't even seen him coming.

She just crouched behind him, terrified and useless. Bradas stood up and pulled out a sword as one bandit came at him, filled with arrows but undaunted none the less. Easily he cut him down, slicing across the face and through the chest in efficient, powerful movements. Two more men came down from the tower to fight him, but they stood no chance against the Dunmer's ruthless speed and strength. They went down in a similar fashion to their predecessor, so bloody and quick that Jackie almost couldn't believe that he preferred to use the bow and arrow.

Before she knew it he'd turned to face her, his blood red eyes flashing. His wild-eyed look sent a spike of terror through her—she knew he was her ally, but she was suddenly reminded that he could probably kill her with the flick of a wrist.

"Stay here," he ordered, blood still dripping off his sword.

She nodded dumbly and watched as he stalked across the courtyard, checking for any more bandits and waving for her to join him when he was certain they were gone.

"There are probably more within the keep," he said breathlessly, looking around to see all the damage he'd done. About six or seven bandits now laid dead in the dirt, weapons strewn across the ground. "I'll go in and see if there's anything useful inside. You stay out here and gather their weapons to sell. Check their pockets for gold and jewels. Take anything and everything," he instructed.

"Okay," she said, feeling slightly sick. She didn't want to loot dead bodies. It felt… creepy and wrong, but she had a feeling that Bradas wasn't going to hear any of it.

"Good," he said brusquely, gripping the handle of his sword almost as if he was eager to find another fight. "Gather as much as you can. We'll sell what we don't need."

Once he was inside the keep, she let herself sit down atop one of the steps, feeling inexplicably exhausted. She gazed out across the sunny courtyard at the corpses Bradas had left behind, and let herself cry.

Sure, it was illogical; from what she knew about bandits, they would have killed them anyway. But all of these people… their lives had ended in just moments. They might have been criminals but they weren't… evil, were they? They were just… people. Human beings.

Jackie sniffled and wiped away her tears. There wasn't time to cry right now, although she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a hole somewhere and disappear. She stood up and began to gather all the weapons she could carry as Bradas had told her.

* * *

><p>The sun was beginning to lower in the sky when he finally exited the keep, his knapsack heavy with foraged items. Jackie was waiting for him on the steps, a small pile of weapons beside her.<p>

"There was plenty of food and gold within the hold," he said, in a good mood. "You can keep any jewels or gold you found on them."

"Gee, thanks," she said flatly, standing up and picking up the items she'd gathered. She wasn't overly caustic, but she did seem tired. Her eyes were rimmed with red, but he chose not to say anything.

They continued on their trek in silence, easily finding the path that wound to Ivarstead. It wasn't until the sun began to set that he stopped, peering into the woods by the trail to see if there was a safe place to make camp nearby.

"What's up?" his companion asked.

"We should set up camp before it gets too dark," he said, looking up at the sky and holding a few fingers up to count how many hours of light they had left. Perhaps one or two. He turned and set foot off the path, careful to watch out for wolves and bears. They tread through the undergrowth of the forest until they found a small clearing not too far from the trail.

"We'll make camp here," he said, setting down his heavy pack with a sigh of relief. She looked equally thrilled to be done for the day. They set up a little tent quickly and lay the bedrolls down a few feet away from each other, and he worked on starting a small fire.

She sighed and laid on her thin bedroll, watching him as he struck two rocks together to make sparks over a pile of dried weeds and wood for kindling. _He'd really love lighter fluid_, she thought, watching silently as he strategically blew on some barely-burning wood chips to make a more substantial flame. When this failed, he gave up, raised an ashen hand, and set the pile on fire with magic.

"Why didn't you just do that in the first place?" she asked, watching as the bright flames cast orange light around their little campground.

"It's a waste of Magicka," he replied, poking around the fire with a stick to make sure it stayed burning. "I'll admit that it makes one lazy, as well."

"If I could do that I wouldn't even bother with the rocks," she said with a smile. He chuckled and settled in next to her with a sigh.

"Perhaps you could learn," he suggested. "Fire is one of the easiest spells to master—well, for a Dunmer, that is."

"I don't know," she mumbled, spacing out a little at the fire.

"You seem reluctant about magic," he observed, flexing his fingers and feeling the power that he held within his own hand. He was a talented fighter, but his real passion lay in magic—destruction magic in particular.

She sighed as she sat up from her bedroll, tucking her legs beneath her to sit crisscross style. "Only because I've never done it before," she told him. "Where I'm from, nobody does it."

He scoffed. "Nords say the exact same thing," he said dismissively. "Treating magic as if it's something to be ashamed of. Trust me when I tell you that they do it, Jackie Carson, even if they deny it."

Jackie laughed at that one, surprising him. Her face lit up with a huge smile and she looked away from the fire to look at him. "I don't think you understand, Bradas," she said. "Where I'm from, magic doesn't even exist."

He blinked in surprise; that was not what he had expected to hear. He'd been under the impression that she was from some noble family, too rich and prideful to allow their daughter to dabble in something so dark and lowly as magic. "A realm without magic," he said, curious to know more.

"Not as you know it, at least," she said, looking back at the fire. "I must have gotten here somehow, though. Magic is the only thing that makes sense."

Bradas didn't know what to say to that. How strange—a land without magic. He tried to imagine it: no soul gems, no spells, no enchantments. He'd known of other planes and dimensions, of course: the planes of Oblivion… their own plane, Nirn… and many others. But did any of the other planes known to him lack magic?

"I'm beat," Jackie said, interrupting his thoughts. She was shifting to lie down on her bed roll, doing her best to curl up under the thin covers. "I'm gonna go to bed."

"I'll take first watch, then," he said distractedly, still pondering. "I'll wake you in a few hours."

She groaned. "We're doing watches?"

"Of course," he said, raising his brow at her. "These parts are dangerous."

"Mhm, of course," she muttered, covering her eyes. "Good night then."

* * *

><p>It felt like only five minutes had passed when she found herself being shaken awake by a bleary-eyed Bradas. He crawled into his sleeping bag and basically ordered her to take over the watch.<p>

She obeyed grudgingly, exhausted and unaware of how many hours had passed. _How did anyone around here tell the time when they had no watches or cell phones?_ After a few minutes, she finally woke up enough to be alert—the chill in the air certainly helped with that.

To keep herself awake she dug a green apple out of her knapsack—or Bradas' knapsack, she wasn't really sure—and began munching on the bitter fruit, hoping that the night would soon come to an end and bring the sun out. She glared over at Bradas, who was already sleeping soundly and silently. Rationally, she knew she was just pulling her weight by keeping watch over the campsite, but being woken up in the middle of the night made her incredibly grumpy. Honestly, she'd wanted to throttle the elf for shaking her awake like that.

Jackie poked at the dwindling fire with a stick as she chewed on her apple, the tartness of the fruit making her jaw clench. Her mind wandered to some other times she'd been woken up in the middle of the night—when her stepsister Coco used to spend the night and wanted to go to party, or when her roommates would get too loud on weeknights. She remembered how upset those times had made her and she smiled—what she wouldn't give to be dealing with those little problems right now.

A feeling of deep loneliness settled over her as she thought about her friends and her family. She thought of her dad, or rather, her stepdad, who had practically raised her. The aging man had some heart problems, and when her mother had died a few years ago he had sort of fallen apart. His health had gotten really bad after that, and sometimes she had a feeling that the only thing that kept him going was her and her stepsister. She wondered if he was worried about her...

… She shook her head and forced those thoughts away. She was doing everything she could to get back and thinking like that wasn't going to help.

She heard a soft groan behind her and turned around to see Bradas, who had turned over in his sleep. He was a welcome distraction, even though he was asleep.

She was always sort of intrigued with him because she'd never seen anyone quite like him. His features were so… different that she sometimes found herself watching him from the corner of her eye, just observing something she had never seen before. He was tall and lean, just like an elf out of a fantasy novel, but his ash-colored skin and blood-red eyes were startling. She'd never in her life imagined that someone like him could exist; deadly and scary and sometimes kind.

She was pretty sure he wouldn't appreciate it if he knew she was ogling, but she couldn't help it. He was a stark reminder that everything that was happening was real.

She looked away from him with a sigh and settled in for a long night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Phew. Okay. Deep stuff, right? Just a little bit of reflection from Jackie, who hasn't had very many quiet moments yet to reflect on her life at home.

Hopefully I am getting the Elder Scrolls universe right. I am sort of exploring the lore here (like the different plains in the ES universe) and trying to explain why and how Jackie came to be in Skyrim. I have a pretty good idea of how it happened, and hopefully it's believable. :) If not, well… pretend for my sake!

Also, sorry if Jackie is coming across as a real big wimp right now. If you are worried about her being a weak character, don't—she will grow as the story progresses. :)

Hope you enjoyed! As always, please review!


	8. A Selective Skeptic

**A/N:**

Happy New Year everyone! 2015. Wow. I hope this next year is GLORIOUS for everyone.

Please enjoy, and make sure to read the A/N at the bottom! :)

* * *

><p>They finally reached Ivarstead after running into two packs of wolves, a bear, and half a day of following a broken path through the forest. As soon as they'd seen the bridge that led to the village, Jackie felt an enormous sense of relief.<p>

"Oh look, civilization," she said, her voice almost dreamy.

Bradas scoffed, ruining her moment. "Hardly," he quipped. She rolled her eyes and continued on the path ahead of him, happily taking in all the offerings of the tiny town. She wasn't going to let his cynicism ruin this for her, especially when she knew there was a soft bed in an inn calling out her name.

"Why don't you get us rooms at that inn?" he asked.

"Those are the magic words," she replied with a tired smile. "What are you gonna do?"

"Walk around, speak to some of the villagers. See if we can't sell our wares." He wanted to see what some of the people here had to say about the Greybeards. "Take this, will you?" he shouldered off the heavy bag of equipment he carried. Her face fell almost comically, but he didn't let himself feel too guilty. It was only small ways to the inn, anyway.

"Uh, okay," she said, taking his heavy bags and slinging it over her shoulder. "Oof. It's only a couple yards, right?" she said, her voice a little strained. He had to admit that he admired that she didn't complain as she started a slow march toward the inn.

* * *

><p>Jackie dropped Bradas' crap the moment she got in the door of their shared room. Hopefully he'd be okay with the two-bed situation she'd set them up in—it was the cheapest option and he'd 'forgotten' to give her cash to pay for his own room.<p>

In the corner where there was the most privacy, Jackie shed her armor to reveal the slightly sweaty men's clothing underneath, feeling wonderfully free after days of keeping it on. She was probably smelly, but she didn't care.

She yawned and stretched out on the bed farthest from the door, already beat even though it couldn't be later than 3 afternoon. She shut her eyes for a few minutes, and before she knew it Bradas was standing over her and shoving her arm with his hand.

She must have dozed off. "Hmm?"

"You're already asleep?" Bradas was asking, his voice a touch condescending. "It's not even evening yet."

"It's called a nap," she groused, covering her eyes with the arm he'd been poking at. "Go 'way."

"Naps are for children," he said without disdain. If she didn't know any better, she'd think he was teasing her.

She opened her eyes and frowned at him. "What were you up to?"

"Not much," he sighed, looking disappointed. "Asked around town about High Hrothgar. No one knows much about the Greybeards."

She shrugged, unable to care all that much in her current state of exhaustion. "That makes all of us. Good night."

"Stay awake, you layabout," he said, shaking her by the arm once again.

"I swear, if you keep shaking me…" she mumbled, turning over so he would leave her alone. Bradas was taken by surprise by his own laughter.

"Fine, stay asleep," he said with a grin. "In the meantime, I shall eat dinner without you."

The noise she made reminded him of a draugr, except far less threatening. "Go. I'll eat later."

He laughed and left the room, finally deciding to take mercy on her. The road was hard on her, he supposed, since she wasn't used to travel like he was. He sat at a table with a rabbit haunch and some ale, enjoying the fire and the music in the empty bar.

* * *

><p>Jackie slept soundly until the next morning, and when she woke up Bradas was already dressed and ready to go.<p>

"You slept all through yesterday afternoon and last night. I'm not sure if I'm impressed or not," he said with a raised brow.

"It was worth it," she said, letting her eyes adjust to the early morning light. Bradas was suddenly standing above her and making her restless.

"I'm heading up the Seven Thousand Steps today," he said. "Are you going to come with me?"

She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Yeah, I'll come," she said—and not because she was excited for the cardio. In fact, her reasons for tagging along were not for sport or a sense of adventure. She'd actually considered not going at all, but when she thought about it… She didn't really trust that the Dunmer wouldn't run off without her. He'd been a great companion so far, but she'd seen first-hand how unscrupulous he could be.

Jackie was quick to get ready. She washed her face and untangled her hair to put it up in a braid before throwing on her armor. Bradas was sitting on his bed and telling her what he'd found out about Ivarstead while she'd been sleeping.

"There is no blacksmith, so people were happy to take the extra weapons and armor off our hands," he was saying. "This town is little but a pit stop. Most of the people I spoke to are just farmers and even they want to leave this place. Most of their money comes from travelers on religious pilgrimages."

"Really?" she asked, surprised. "So people go up there to pray?" She hadn't heard much about religion here in Skyrim.

"Or meditate," he supplied. "They leave offerings at their shrine. That sort of thing."

"Oh… are you going to meditate?" she asked, curious. She highly doubted it; Bradas didn't seem like the religious type.

"Perhaps," he murmured, looking distant. Well, that wasn't what she had expected. She had to wonder why they were climbing these impossible steps in the first place—Bradas hadn't offered any information regarding that. He'd said he had business with the Greybeards… but he hadn't shared what, and she hadn't asked.

She made a note to ask him more about religion in this realm when they had the time. Right now, though, he was beginning to look uncomfortable, so she switched gears. She understood that some people didn't like talking about spirituality and that kind of thing. "Anything else?" she chirped, hoping to prevent an awkward mood.

"Yes," he said quickly, glad to be done with the subject. "Be prepared for wolves and bears on those steps. There's also game—I'll have you practice with your bow and arrow once we're up there. There may also be trolls."

Trolls? Of course! Did the list of monsters never end? "What do trolls look like?" she asked as she tightened the straps of leather to make the armor more comfortable. She was still getting the hang of these old-fashioned buckles.

"Big, monstrous brutes," Bradas replied. "Sharp teeth, sharp claws, three beady black eyes…"

"Three?" she asked, incredulous. The claws and teeth she could see, but three eyes was excessive. "Gross."

Her companion grinned, enjoying her disgust. "Their arms are longer than their legs so sometimes they'll run after you on all fours. They're stupid, but smart enough to open doors so you can't just run into a building and hope they lose interest in you," he continued. Jackie was done dressing by now, and she just stared at him with a disgusted face.

"Uh, let's just hope we don't run into one of those," she said, grabbing her pack and fastening it to her back.

"Sometimes they hunt in pairs," he informed her.

"It just keeps getting better," she sighed. He grinned and picked up his own pack.

"Don't worry, Jackie. They should be no problem. You'll need to practice fighting, anyway—and trolls are very good practice."

* * *

><p>The two of them bought some food and supplies before leaving the inn. They both looked up at the tall mountain that loomed over the village and began walking down the path toward the steps.<p>

On the way there they passed by a dome-like structure that seemed abandoned. "You know," Bradas said, stopping in front of it. "I hear this barrow is haunted."

"Really?" she asked, frowning. It didn't seem out of the realm of possibility, especially with all the things she'd seen in this land so far.

"The people here say that a ghost rattles its chains and warns them away," he replied, eyeing the door with narrowed eyes.

"Is it true?" she asked.

"Nords are a superstitious people," he said dismissively, still studying the crumbling building. He looked to her after a second, a smile working its way onto his lips. "I bet there's gold in these ruins."

"Oh," she said, comprehending what he was wanting to do. "But… we're supposed to go up the mountain," she protested. She was no expert, but it seemed like a better idea to try and get to Winterhold as soon as possible.

Also, she really didn't want to find out if ghosts were real or not.

"This will take half a day at most," he said, taking a step toward the threshold and ignoring her objections. "Besides, the worst thing we can run into is a couple of draugr. Even you could defeat one of those."

She would have been offended if she didn't know how terrible she was at fighting. "But… what if it's actually haunted?" she asked, hoping to dissuade him from this adventure.

He smirked. "Are your people superstitious as well, Jackie?"

"No…"

"Then let's get on with it," he said, marching toward the ruins. His tone didn't leave any room for argument, so she just sighed and followed, hoping that these deviations from their course wouldn't happen too often.

* * *

><p>Together they entered the dark, dusty barrow. She covered her mouth to avoid breathing in any of the dirt that was steadily falling from the ceiling. That couldn't be a good sign.<p>

Bradas crouched down and began his quiet descent down the rickety spiral staircase, trying to be as quiet as possible. It wasn't easy with Jackie behind him, who was making the stairs creak with every step. He turned around and placed a finger on his lips to signal her to be quiet. She nodded her understanding, eyes wide.

There appeared to be no one in the room at the bottom of the staircase.

"It's empty," Jackie whispered.

"So it seems," he replied, reaching back to take hold of his bow. This place seemed like the perfect breeding grounds for draugr. "Take out a weapon and prepare to fight," he told her quietly. She obeyed and drew her dagger.

They walked ahead for only a few steps when an airy, raspy voice echoed through the barrow: "Leave this place… leave this place…. leave… leave… leave…"

Jackie's panicked gasp was more an embarrassing squeak, and if Bradas hadn't been so focused on making sure there was no danger he would have laughed at her outright. She tugged on his sleeve and pulled him back a little.

"We should go," she said in a tiny voice, gripping her dagger so tight that her knuckles began to turn white.

"Don't be a coward," he replied in a low voice, before turning the corner and searching for any signs of life.

There were no draugr here, although there few a few skeletons leaning up against the wall. He searched their pockets for gold, earning more wide-eyed looks from his companion. They ventured further into the barrow, collecting gold and other treasures as they went along. There were a few traps, which they were thankfully able to avoid. Soon, however, they reached a dead end. A gate stood in the way of their progress, and Bradas set to finding a way through.

"How do we get past these gates?" Jackie asked, leaning into one of the obstructions and sticking her arm through the bars.

"Not still afraid, are you?" he asked, searching for some kind of pull chain or lever.

"Sort of freaked out about that voice, but I'm good," she replied, her voice a little shaky. He was glad to see her on board with investigating this place, because it was happening whether she liked it or not.

"Good. Ah, here are some levers," he said, entering a small chamber. It was a riddle: four levers, two on either side of the threshold. Jackie walked over to where he was to look. "How are you at puzzles?"

"What's the puzzle?" she asked, furrowing her brow.

"Which levers to pull to open the gates." His eyes darted to either side of the chamber. "It's a dart trap. If we get it wrong it'll shoot at us," he informed her.

"Uh, maybe that's a sign we should leave…" she said uncertainly.

He scoffed. "They're most likely just weak poison darts."

She looked up at him and frowned. "Still sounds like it hurts."

He rolled his eyes and pulled one of the levers, deciding that there was no better way to see which combination was right. He jumped out of the room quickly, just in case, but no arrows shot out from the holes in the wall. He heard an unseen gate clink somewhere else in the ruins.

He looked to her and nodded his head toward the levers. "Your turn."

She frowned and stood in front of the levers like he had, studying them carefully. She chose the lever on the far right and pushed it up. She followed his example and jumped out of the way when darts started flying.

"Ow!" she yelped, holding her arm where a dart had landed. He reached out quickly to pull out the offending barb and threw it on the ground.

The effects of the poison were instant. Jackie felt dizzy all of the sudden, and her vision blurred for a few short moments. After only a few seconds she was able to see clearly, although the urge to vomit was pretty overwhelming. She managed to keep it together, and eventually even the nausea wore off.

"Oh," she breathed, blinking a few times and placing her hand over the little wound the dart had left. "Thanks."

"Wrong lever," he said with a laugh. "I'll try this time."

Jackie didn't consider herself a petty person, but she had to admit she was a sort of happy when Bradas got stuck buy two darts before jumping out of the way.

"Damn!" he swore, taking the darts out right away. He leaned over beside her to collect himself for a moment before returning to the levers. "In that case, it must be…" He pulled one last lever and this time, the gates finally opened.

* * *

><p>It turned out that Shroud Hearth Barrow was being haunted by a real person who just didn't want anyone else to steal the treasure he was looking for.<p>

"We basically just lived out a Scooby Doo episode," she told him as she read Wyndelius' journal.

While he didn't understand what she meant, he did understand her frustration. He was not completely satisfied with the pathetic amount of gold they'd found. They marched out of the barrow in low spirits toward the inn to speak with Wilhelm.

His mood brightened considerably when the innkeeper gave him a sapphire dragon claw to access more of the ruins. Jackie didn't share his enthusiasm, putting her hands up and saying that he could go by himself, but he wasn't having it.

There were most certainly draugr in the depths of that barrow, and it was a perfect opportunity to teach Jackie to fight… not to mention the possibility of finding treasure. He'd need someone to help him carry it all out.

He was really beginning to see the perks of travelling with a companion.

* * *

><p>Several puzzles, traps, skeletons and draugr later, Jackie was about to lose her mind.<p>

How Bradas could be skeptical about hauntings was totally beyond her.

"I hate this," she said, fully aware that she sounded incredibly whiny. To be fair, this was her first time ever seeing (and attempting to fight) zombies. As soon as they'd stepped into one of the great halls of the barrow a huge group of the draugr popped right out of their tombs and began to attack. She had tried to use some of the moves that Bradas had taught her, but ultimately wound up stabbing and slashing wildly while hoping for the best. At one point they had been overwhelmed with skeletons and draugr—Even Bradas had looked overwhelmed when she'd tried to find him.

She was pretty sure they had just barely survived. It was easier to fight them than she'd thought, but it was still no picnic. Blood covered her armor from a gash on her arm and a broken nose that Bradas had healed. It didn't hurt anymore but she was still shaken up.

"Why? Look at all this treasure," he replied, ignoring her in favor of looting a chest they had found. "Get over here and we'll split it. I'll be taking more, of course, since I killed more of them than you did." He gave her a pointed look.

"Oh, my God," she groaned. She would have put her face in her hands, but they were covered in her own blood. He was unbelievable. She found it really hard to care about loot when she was standing in a hall filled with bones, not knowing whether or not more were to come. For all she knew, the corpses would be rolling back together and reassembling themselves to fight again—they had already defied death once before.

"Don't complain. You did quite well against the draugr for someone so inexperienced." It was an attempt at a compliment, but honestly, she wasn't feeling it right now.

"Let's just _go_," she replied, drawing out the last word. "I just wanna get back to the inn, wash off all this grime, and go to bed."

He sighed as if _he_ was the one dealing with an adrenaline-junkie thief. "Fine, if we must," he said, grabbing the last bit of treasure from the chest and shoving it into his pockets. "Why don't you take…" he stopped in the middle of his sentence.

"Take what?" she asked, for a moment thinking that he'd just lost track of his thought. He didn't reply. "Um, Bradas? You wanted me to carry something?" His face had lost its usual overconfident expression and he suddenly looked completely unfocused.

"There is…" he mumbled, turning his head to the side. Fear spiked in her gut. Had he gotten a head injury?

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, waving her hand in front of his face. There was a good chance he'd gotten hit in the head during their fight. He waved her away and started toward the wall. "Just hang on a second and sit down," she said worriedly.

"Quiet," he said as he walked. She fell silent and watched him as he moved toward the corner of the room. Some strange wording had begun to glow as he went nearer, and it seemed as though the radiant words themselves were beginning to peel themselves away from the stone and swirl around him.

She watched I fear as he knelt over, looking as though the breath was being sucked from his lungs. She had no idea what was happening and worse, she had no idea how to stop it. "Bradas!" she cried, lunging toward him to—she didn't know—perhaps pull him away from the swirling light? A gust of wind (coming from where?) began to swirl across the room, blowing so hard that it was almost a struggle to reach him. She was almost afraid of what it could do to her… was this some kind of magic? Had they stumbled into some kind of ancient curse? Anything was possible.

It stopped the moment she placed her hand on her shoulder. Bradas was still kneeling in front of the monument, taking deep breaths and trying to steady himself. She fell to her knees beside him, hand still on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" she asked, strangely out of breath.

There was no sound for a moment but the harsh tenor of their breaths. Finally, he replied, "I'm fine." He shrugged her hand off his shoulder and stood up. She followed suit, relieved but incredibly confused.

"What was that?" she asked with wide eyes, no longer concerned about the state of her clothes and the stench of the tomb.

"I'll explain later," he said, slightly out of breath. If he'd known there was a word wall here, he would have come alone… this Dragonborn business wasn't secret, but it was a hassle to deal with. At the moment he felt too drained to explain it to Jackie, who was most surely ignorant about the whole thing.

"Okay," she said, her voice gentle. "Here, let me take something…"

He wouldn't have assented if he hadn't felt the familiar drain that came from absorbing souls and learning new words; it wasn't as tiring as it used to be, but he still felt wiped out. Instead of complaining, he handed her some of the lighter weapons they'd picked up and they found their way out of the barrow.

* * *

><p>Bradas was quiet and almost… broody as they made their way back to the inn in Ivarstead. Jackie was pretty confused about what had happened underground in the barrow, but she had a feeling that now wasn't the best time to question him.<p>

Definitely later, though.

Now, he seemed too tired to answer any questions, and as soon as they got into their room he was peeling off his grimy armor and letting it drop to the floor. She grimaced as little specks of dried blood fell to the floor. If this was a nicer hotel they definitely wouldn't be getting their deposit back.

She began to unbuckle her own armor until she stood free in the loose clothes underneath. "Is there a way to wash this armor?" she asked, thoroughly grossed out by the idea of putting it back on later.

He was already crawling underneath the covers. "River water is the best we'll do out here," he mumbled, getting comfortable.

Jackie crossed her arms and watched him fall asleep quickly with a frown. He'd seemed so full of energy just an hour ago and now he was practically passing out on his bed. She sighed and bent over to gather their dirty armor. She wasn't tired yet and there was still light outside. It wasn't as warm as it had been in the middle of the day but she would have done just about anything for some clean(ish) clothes. To the river it was.

* * *

><p>The air outside was mild, but the river itself was freezing. Which was better for getting blood out, she supposed. She rinsed the armor as well as she could, scrubbing with her fingers and then with a smooth rock. It actually seemed to be working, and that made her feel… really accomplished actually. There weren't many things in this world that she could do, and it was nice to be successful at something whether it had to do with fighting or not.<p>

It was a nice, mundane action, and while she'd never been a big fan of cleaning back home, she appreciated it. It wasn't killing skeletons or wrestling trolls. It wasn't magically healing or setting things on fire with your mind. It just… was. It was kind of therapeutic to watch all the blood wash out of the clothes and into the stream.

It took some effort, but she finally finished and wrung out the rough material. It was still a little warm out, and although the sun was starting to dip behind the mountains she didn't feel like going inside just yet. In fact, the cool water had left her hands wrinkly and clean, and she sort of wondered if it wasn't too cold to take a quick dip in the river.

Jackie laid out the wet armor on a warm rock before looking all around to make sure no one was around. She quickly stripped off the loose clothes she was wearing and dipped a toe in the water. It was freezing, but she was freaking filthy and she didn't think she could stand it anymore!

She jumped in to the deeper part of the river and stifled a shriek. She sat down quickly and began to scrub her body, making sure to reach everywhere she could before finishing. Once she had washed as well as she could, she took a deep breath and dunked her greasy head into the water, letting it rinse away all the oil and dirt.

Finally she tore herself out of the water and wiped off the water with her dry clothes before getting clothed again. She was cold but feeling great, invigorated, even. There was nothing like being clean!

* * *

><p>The next morning, Bradas woke to see his armor at the foot of his bed, cleaned of all blood and dirt. He sat up and peered over to the other side of the room at his companion, who was still sleeping peacefully.<p>

He changed into clean clothes before she could wake up and placed his newly-cleaned armor on, not sure how he felt about the kindness she'd done him by washing it. He supposed he should only feel grateful, but he was suspicious by nature. What reason did Jackie have to do him any favors?

With a frown, the Dunmer walked over to her bed and placed a hand on her arm to wake her. "It's morning, Jackie," he said, giving a gentle shake. She rolled over and opened one bleary eye.

"I'm only getting up if we're actually going up the mountain today," she muttered. "If you drag me into another tomb I'm going on strike."

He chuckled, not knowing exactly what she meant but understanding the gist of it. "No more tombs. Today we climb the steps."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

SO HERE'S THE PROBLEM GUYS. Okay, there is not _really_ a problem at all :) More like a conundrum.

There are so many missions and quests to go on in Skyrim. This fic is going to be a little long but I don't want it to turn into like a 50 chapter monstrosity—not because long fics are bad, but because _I'm_ bad and I can't commit to something like that!

So I'm sort of in a position where I'm having to pick and choose which quests are actually helping further this story, and which ones we really don't need to see. I chose the Shroud Hearth Barrow quest because a) Bradas can't resist treasure hunting b) it's a good time for Jackie to learn some fightin' moves, and c) it's time to throw these guys into some Dragonborn-related stuff.

As far as other quests go… I have a really good idea of where this story is going. I have some STUFF planned. Ya know? So our heroine will be keeping Bradas company on some quests, but I'm going to have to be selective about which ones. I hope that is okay with everyone! If there are any particular missions you'd like to see our characters go on, just let me know and I'll see if I can work it out somehow. If not I am sorry :(

But besides that, please let me know what you thought! Thanks so much for reading!


	9. Healing Magic

They spent the whole day travelling up, up, up into the mountain. Like Bradas promised, there had been game, and he tried to teach her a little about the bow and arrow with disappointing—but not unexpected—results.

When he found himself getting impatient with her, he reminded himself that this was probably the first time in her whole life she'd ever held a bow.

"Actually there was one semester in high school where our gym teacher taught us," she said as they travelled up the broken steps.

"Semester?"

"Yeah, uh, half a school year," she replied, keeping her eyes focused on the ground to keep from tripping.

"Clearly your teacher didn't know what he was doing."

"She," she corrected. "And she wasn't bad. We had to quit when some student put an arrow through her leg on accident."

He let out a huff of laughter. When she told stories like that, he had to wonder how she'd made it this far at all. He turned around and watched her struggle up a jagged step. "I didn't know there were people in your realm more hopeless than you," he joked, not bothering to help her up.

She laughed once she got to where he was. "It makes me feel a lot better about myself."

They continued up the steps for the rest of the afternoon. As they climbed higher, the air got thinner and the wind blew colder. Jackie untied her hair and tucked it in into the color of her clothes in an attempt to warm up her ears and neck, and watched, unimpressed, as Bradas trekked on without showing any signs of cold.

When the sun began to lower and touch the horizon, Bradas knew it was about time to stop. He frowned and searched for a spot to camp out as they walked, wishing that it was possible to just push on through the night. That wouldn't be wise, though—if this chill was any indication of how cold the night would get, he didn't want to risk it. He much preferred travelling while the sun was up, anyway.

They wound up camping out in a little cave a ways from the path. Jackie felt totally depressed as a light flurry of snow began to fall.

"It's gonna be so cold," she said sadly, sitting on her bedroll under the tent and rubbing her hands together.

"Don't be such a milk-drinker," Bradas said with a smirk as he threw some dry wood in a pile to start a fire. She watched quietly as he started the fire with his magic, like he had a few nights ago.

"I might be a milk-drinker," she said, crossing her arms and placing her hands in her armpits. "But you can make fire with your hands so you're not freezing your butt off like me. I think I'm entitled to complain a little."

"You may be right," he conceded, scooting under the tent next to her once the fire was at a consistent blaze. "Perhaps now would be a good time to teach you a spell."

She adjusted herself so she was sitting across from him cross-legged, almost touching his knees with hers. "I don't think I can do it," she said, placing her cold fingers on her cheeks to try and warm up. Tired of watching her wiggle her hands around, he reached over, pulled them away from her face, and positioned them palm-down on her knees.

"Anyone can," he assured. "It's quite simple." Bradas lifted his own dark hand and focused until a small flame erupted from his palm. She watched, fascinated, until he closed his hand and distinguished the flame. "My mother was a master pyromancer," he said, once again channeling his magicka into his hands and letting the heat consume his arms without bursting into flame. "When I was a child I thought I'd never reach her level of skill. It took me a long time to get where she was—fifty years, in fact."

"That's not helping my confidence."

He ignored her and continued. "Fortunately for you, there is no need to become a master. All you need to learn is a simple spell called 'Flames'." Jackie tilted her head and he shrugged. "Admittedly not the most creative name."

"I'll give it a shot, I guess…" she said reluctantly. "Tell me what to do."

"Which is your dominant hand?"

She lifted her right hand and he grasped it gently, pulling up the fabric of her sleeve to expose her arm. "Fire will come from your center and trickle down your arm. He traced a blue vein down her wrist and followed the path to the tip of her middle finger. "This will be the path. Pinpoint the warmest part of your body," he demonstrated by placing one hand over his chest. "And imagine it rushing down your arm."

She closed her eyes and focused for a few moments, trying to visualize it without feeling like she was participating in a weird relaxation exercise. She wasn't sure if she was just practicing, or if he expected her to set something on fire _right now_. "The warmest part of my body?"

"Your heart, most likely."

"Aw, that's sweet," she said, and he rolled his eyes.

"No joking while learning," he said firmly. "I'm going to cook something. You practice while I'm busy."

"Ugh."

He grinned as he stood up, watching her meditate on the ground like some kind of monk. "Be ready to set things ablaze by the time I'm done. You'll be cooking your own meat."

She wrinkled her nose. "I hope that's a joke."

Thankfully, Bradas didn't expect her to be casting spells right away. They ate in peace, and she offered to take the first watch while he slept. It was a quiet night, and she hated to think of what she would do if something wandered close by or tried to attack. Probably wake up Bradas and make him deal with it.

She kept an eye out on the mountain around the fire, and at the same time tried to visualize the fire Bradas had been talking about. She was pretty positive she wasn't capable of magic, but she had to wonder—_was_ it possible? Was magic an energy that came from the inside, or was it like a source one could draw from the air around them?

Was there no magic on Earth? Or no magic in the people that lived there?

That question was probably enough to drive her crazy. If there was no magic on Earth, then how did she get here? Were there areas where magic was possible? Were there some people who could do it but kept it secret? No matter the answer, if she did make it home… her life would never be the same. Her entire worldview had been turned on its head and it would probably stay that way forever.

She just couldn't think about it anymore. She forced herself to forget about it; no answers would come this late at night. Instead, she lifted her eyes to the sky to watch the journey of two foreign moons and trace unfamiliar constellations.

* * *

><p>The next morning they continued up the mountain. The snowfall from the night before made it more difficult to see the broken steps leading up to High Hrothgar, but they managed to keep to the path by looking out for the etched tablets along the trail. She could barely read the letters on them without her reading glasses (just one more thing she missed from home), so Bradas read them out loud as if he was a long-suffering parent reading yet another bedtime story to his child.<p>

Jackie was an extremely unexperienced adventurer, but she knew that the sound of heavy panting was probably not a good sign. In front of her, Bradas crouched down, wordlessly raising one hand as if to tell her to be as quiet as possible.

They both leaned up against a rock, with Bradas being the only one who could see around it to figure out what was breathing on the other side. She watched as he peeked around the corner, and when his body stiffened she was automatically nervous. He leaned back against the rock and his red eyes slid to lock onto hers.

"Troll," he mouthed, eyes wide. He was already reaching for his bow. Shakily, she reached for the dagger at her belt, knowing that even with her weapon she was pretty much helpless. His eyes followed her movement as he shook his head.

She removed her hand, eyes questioning.

"Stay," he whispered, so quiet that she almost couldn't hear him. "Don't let it see you. If he comes for you, run."

Bradas turned away from her, hoping that she would listen to him and stay out of sight. He had heard that trolls sometimes liked to frequent this mountain, but he had hoped not to run into one—especially when he had a complete novice to take care of.

Just his luck.

Thankfully she seemed satisfied to do as he told her. She curled up against a crevice in the rock, making herself as small as possible. He turned his attention to the snow-white troll that was grunting as it trundled along the mountain road, unaware of their presence. If it caught sight of them before he was ready, they'd have big problems on their hands. He was confident in his abilities, but trolls weren't to be underestimated.

He carefully, quietly, gently nocked an arrow into his bow, wary of making any noise. If he'd had time he would have poisoned the arrow, but it wasn't likely that they'd go unnoticed for much longer.

The arrow flew through the air and hit its intended target in the back of the neck.

The troll turned slowly, its three eyes unblinking as it zeroed in on the Dunmer who had shot it—and it let out an angry, almost indignant roar. Jackie squeaked.

"Damn!" he swore, jumping up from his crouched position. His arrow hadn't hurt the troll, but only made it angry. He made a point to run away from where Jackie was hiding; he didn't want to have to worry about it attacking her while he was trying to kill it.

The beast ran after him, its arms and legs propelling it fast toward him. He managed to fire off a few arrows before it became too close, and he ran and jumped up a few of the rocks on the mountain to avoid its gangly, dangerous limbs.

It roared furiously, beating its hands on the ground before starting after him again. He sent off two more arrows before moving again.

Jackie watched in horror as the nightmare version of the abominable snowman thundered after her companion, arrows sticking out of its hide like nothing. Bradas was running and jumping and shooting arrows as quickly as he could, but it didn't seem to be doing anything to the monster running after him.

Finally Bradas seemed to tire of wasting his arrows and pulled out his sword. She watched as he made a leap off the rock he was standing on to slash at the troll and roll away quickly. She silently cheered for him to prevail, because if he didn't, well… they'd both be dead.

She wished she wasn't so helpless.

A flash of fire appeared and she knew that Bradas was performing magic. The troll screamed in pain and took a swing at him, and he only rolled away just in time. Another burst of flame came, and then another. Jackie couldn't figure out how badly it was hurting the troll, but it had to be bad because it was becoming frenzied, swinging its long arms in wild arcs in an effort to catch the elf.

One look at him confirmed that Bradas was grinning madly through the sweat and dirt he'd been kicking up by rolling around, and she was caught between relief and frustration. Relief, because if he was smiling that meant he probably had the upper hand. Frustration, because he was literally the only person she'd ever met who _wanted_ to get into fights with trolls and dragons.

That feeling passed quickly, though, when one of the monsters arms finally caught him and sent him rolling a ways down the path. Jackie's stomach lurched as she watched him get up only to get whacked again.

_No no no!_

She felt sick, worse than she' ever felt in her whole life. She'd been so sure that Bradas had it under control and now he couldn't seem to keep on his own two feet. _And she couldn't do anything._

The troll moved forward to crouch over him, seething. Bradas tried once more to twist out of the way or to stab it; she wasn't sure. But its massive hand knocked the sword out of his grip and pinned him down.

Her mind worked quickly: Bradas had told her to run if she had to, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that she wouldn't be able to outrun that thing. And she couldn't let him die without trying… _something_, so… if she was going to die no matter what, she wanted to at least try to help.

The troll was rearing up, getting ready to deliver another smack to the Dunmer when she jumped out from her hiding spot and yelled. She was too panicked to form any coherent words so she wound up waving her hands and babbling some nonsense. Thankfully, that didn't matter to the troll, who lifted its head to look at its new opponent.

Then she flung her dagger as hard as she could toward the beast. It didn't even get close to hitting it, but it made it angry enough to forget about Bradas. It launched off its feet toward her and she began to scramble down the path in terror. It was so _fast_—she didn't stand a chance against it.

A powerful clawed hand swiped at her and caused her to tumble down the steps painfully. She tried to keep moving after that but it was nearly impossible; the troll barreled toward her and struck once more. She felt her limbs sprawl out in the freezing snow, although the cold did nothing to numb the pain she was feeling. She felt like a Raggedy Anne doll, limp and out of control of her own body, and everything felt like it was happening in slow motion.

She didn't wanna die. She _really_ didn't want to die. This was awful.

She waited for another hit for what felt like an eternity, but it never came.

It was bloody and it was messy, but finally Bradas' blade found its way into the back of the troll's neck. It fell forward before it could land another blow to the girl in the snow… but Bradas wasn't sure if it mattered.

He couldn't tell from his position on the monsters back, but she looked dead.

Shaky from adrenaline, he made his way in the snow toward her. He didn't bother to pull his sword out of the troll—it wasn't going anywhere.

"Jackie," he panted, kneeling down next to her on one knee to feel for a pulse. He felt sick and sticky with guilt. What had he been thinking by bringing her with him? He could have left her—no, he _should_ have left her in Ivarstead.

He waited to feel a pulse, but his hands were so cold and unsteady that he couldn't find it. What a _fool_ he had been! What was he thinking, dragging her out into the wilderness and risking her life? An innocent life… "Oh, Azura…" he muttered.

A soft groan escaped her lips and he wasted no time. If she was still alive, a healing spell could work. He concentrated all his energy, fighting the shakes that came after a difficult fight. A golden light began to swirl around her. Bones began to click into place and her breathing became steady; fear and guilt gave way to relief.

Jackie's eyes opened slowly, as if she were waking up from a long nap. The light of his magic was still around her, glowing as she took a breath unimpeded by broken ribs. "That's nice," she breathed, sighing in bliss as if she weren't lying in the snow surrounded by her own blood.

As soon as the spell was finished, Bradas pulled her gently out of the snow.

"Oof." She cooperated slowly, her limbs heavy as he pulled her from the ground and into a sitting position on a rock. He grabbed a health potion out of his bag and downed it quickly.

"Ah. We made it," she mumbled, looking drunk. He frowned. She'd never been exposed to this much healing magic before, that much was obvious.

"Focus," he ordered, feeling the potion slowly work its way through his veins.

"On what?"

"Staying awake. Here." He handed her a health potion as well and she drank it without even looking at what it was.

"Thanks." She breathed in and out, her eyes closing and opening slowly as if she were trying to wake herself up. Her voice sounded strange and breathless when she asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said with a breathy laugh. For a few long moments he'd been convinced that she was dead, and it'd been all his fault. She almost hadn't woken up and she was asking if _he_ was alright.

"That hurt, like… worse than anything I've ever felt," she said, smiling to reveal a bloody lip. He was very low on magicka but lifted a hand to mend it anyway. She sighed, leaning forward toward the healing hand, stopping just before her forehead hit his palm. "Then I felt the best I've ever…"

"Hush," he said. He knew the intoxicating feeling of the Healing Hands spell, how it could leave one dazed for a few moments after. He'd performed it on her when they'd first met, but she'd only had a few bruises and cuts to heal then. He was certain that she'd been near death just now, and he'd used most of his magicka reserves to prevent that. He finished and then sat beside her on the edge of the rock, completely worn out.

"'Kay."

"Why did you do that, Jackie?"

She turned to look at him with half-open brown eyes. "I was pretty sure you were gonna die," she said, her words slurred. "Got kinda scared for you."

"I told you to run," he said, leaning his head back against the rock at their backs. "But I'm glad you didn't." She gave him a tired smile in response and shut her eyes.

Luckily they were not far from where the graybeards resided. Jackie was fine after a few moments of rest, if not a little bruised—his restoration magic was not as nuanced as his destruction magic, so he hadn't managed to erase every little cut and contusion. She wasn't dead, though, which more than made up for it.

He had, of course, collected the fat from the troll, which had nearly made her vomit. A small part of him found it hilarious, even though he had made a vow to be a little kinder to her after she'd almost died.

"It's a rare ingredient," he explained as his knife carved out the fat. "You should learn to do this, too. Come here."

"No way," she replied, turning her back to him so she wouldn't have to watch. "Ugh. I just want to get away from it."

He finished up, smiling to himself. Her disgust was reassuring, proof to him that she was feeling more like herself after having been healed.

* * *

><p>Jackie's eyes widened as they reached what had to be the Greybeards' monastery. It was a huge fortress that looked, in her mind, like a castle with a huge stone staircase leading up to the doors. "I hope they let us in," she muttered, peering at her companion. He was regarding the monastery with an unimpressed gaze, like he was dreading going in.<p>

"Oh, they'll let us in," he sighed, starting up the stairs. "May as well get it over with."

She frowned and followed him. What was his deal? No matter what, it was at least warmer in there than it was out here.

Bradas took hold of one of the doors and opened it wide without even knocking. A heavenly burst of warm air wafted over them as they entered, and a flurry of snow followed them inside. Jackie pulled the door shut behind her, feeling a little guilty about entering without even letting them know they were there. Then again, her idea of manners was probably different than the norm in Skyrim.

The great hall they had entered was spacious and lit only by a few fireplaces. Monks sat before a stone wall, meditating, or wandered around the monastery on some silent errand. It was strangely quiet, and she suddenly wished she'd asked Bradas a little more about why he needed to come here.

The Dunmer, however, seemed to know exactly what he was doing. One of the monks had spotted them and was walking over, most likely to ask what they were doing. Bradas walked toward him as well, meeting him halfway.

"So," the monk said, his voice strained and gravelly. "A dragonborn appears, at this moment, at the turning of the age."

Bradas' expression was blank, unreadable. Jackie shrunk behind him a little, getting the feeling that whatever was happening, she was not at all a part of it. She remained silent, hoping to be ignored while Bradas did whatever he needed to do.

"I'm answering your summons," he said stiffly, red eyes trained on the monk before him.

The man looked skeptical, as if he was sizing Bradas up. "We shall see if you truly have the gift. Show us, Dragonborn. Let us taste of your voice." Every one of the monks was paying attention now, their eyes all trained on him.

"Stand aside, Jackie," he said, motioning for her to move. Confused, she complied, backing up to stand near the wall.

"Strike us with the power of your voice," the monk commanded. "It will not hurt us!"

She was well and truly lost, now. Jackie crossed her arms and watched Bradas as he took a deep breath, looking uncertain for the first time since she'd met him. He opened his mouth, and…

"_FUS!_"

Baskets flew across the room and some of the monks staggered backwards. Jackie could feel its force from where she was, like the wind from a car passing by on the highway.

"Dragonborn, it is you," said the monk who had greeted them, his voice welcoming and overwhelmed. "Welcome to High Hrothgar."

Jackie had been in this realm for well over a month, but sometimes she still couldn't believe how her life had turned into a fantasy novel.

She sat patiently and quietly by one of the fireplaces as she watched Bradas learn from the monks. It was amazing and scary all at once; light and energy swirled around him as he learned and shouted, using only his voice to take down translucent target that the monks created. She got comfortable in one of the chairs and observed his every movement, watching the air quiver as he spoke.

It took a long time, but it was not at all boring to watch.

She'd already known that Bradas was kind of a badass—he was a ridiculously good fighter and he knew what he was doing when it came to hunting and surviving out in the wild. Now she was finding out that he apparently had the soul of a dragon, and he had yet _another_ deadly talent. How could a person even be that skilled? How could anyone have that much going for him?

Eventually the monks urged Bradas outside, which seemed like a wise choice considering that the baskets and pottery inside the monastery had been bouncing off the walls with every shout. She followed eagerly, not wanting to miss what was happening next. She knew she wasn't essential to what was happening but it was still fascinating to see what he could do.

She crossed her arms once they were out in the evening snow, standing clear of Bradas just in case.

"You're going to learn the Whirlwind shout from Master Borri," Arngeir said. That strange writing appeared on the ground, drawing Bradas closer and swirling around him. She remembered him becoming worn out in Shroud Hearth Barrow when the same thing had happened, but she wouldn't have guessed it now.

They all travelled in a group together toward a set of gates. "Now that you have the knowledge of the Whirlwind Sprint, you must demonstrate it. Do as Master Wulfgar does."

The monk who must have been Master Wulfgar gave Bradas a glance as the gates opened. He opened his mouth and—

Jackie gasped and covered her mouth. His body had practically flown past the gate as it was closing, leaving a slight trail in the snow. Bradas followed suit, performing the shout flawlessly. He walked back toward their little group with Master Wulfgar in tow, looking like the cat that ate the canary. She stared at him, unsure if this was something she should be that impressed by—crazy things had happened here in Skyrim, after all.

By the look on master Arngeir's face, however, she could see that her amazement was justified. "Your quick mastery of the Thu'um is… astonishing," he said. "I'd heard stories of the abilitites of the Dragonborn, but to see it for myself…"

"Thank you," Bradas replied, breathless but smiling. It was a look she'd seen before, that exhilarated look that he got when fighting. "What's next?"

"Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav." Bradas' face fell at the mention of going into another tomb. "Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return."

That night the two of them were given a place to sleep by the monks. The monastery was so eerily quiet that she was almost afraid to talk, so instead she focused on getting settled in. They warmed up some stew and split a loaf of bread, eating quietly.

After a few long minutes of eating, she finally spoke. "Can everyone do that?" she asked, her voice low as not to disturb anyone who was potentially trying to sleep.

He took a sip of stew before answering. "No."

"Have you always been able to do that?"

Bradas sighed. "I haven't. Had no idea I could before that dragon appeared in Whiterun," he replied.

"I don't understand everything going on here," she admitted, thinking back to when they were in Helgen, being carted off to die. The man across from her—the notorious Ulfric Stormcloak—had his mouth gagged so he wouldn't be able to shout. "Did that dragon at Helgen come for you?"

"I don't know," he said his voice distant and thoughtful.

"It came at an awfully convenient time."

"I know as much as you do," he said. "If it was to save me, to kill me… I do not know. This… Dragonborn business," there was bitterness in his tone, "is too much. I never came to this land to…" He sighed, his voice sounding profoundly tired.

"It's cool," she said, not knowing what else to say. "Hey. I'm just glad to be inside next to a warm fire." She held her hands out to the fireplace and rubbed them together, hoping to chase away the low mood.

"Soon you'll be able to make your own," he said, leaning back onto his bedroll with a sigh.

"Ha, maybe." She watched him as he closed his eyes, seeming to deflate as he relaxed.

"We leave tomorrow morning," he said, exhausted. "We will make our way to Winterhold. I'll seek out this Horn of Jurgen Windcaller later…" _if ever_. She could hear the unspoken words in the tone of his voice.

"Okay," she said lightly, leaning back to lie on her bedroll as well. "Good night."

He seemed to fall asleep instantly. She couldn't blame him. The whole day had been… crazy, to say the least. She took a moment to study him, perplexed. Out of all the people she could have followed in Skyrim, she'd picked the one guy who had the soul of a dragon.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Who has two thumbs and the best reviewers ever? _This gal_. Seriously, you are all amazing. :) I am happy beyond words that this fic has had really positive, descriptive reviews. I love you all! A lot!

Please let me know what you thought about the chapter! Like? Dislikes? Suggestions about what our heroes should do next?


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